


Heaven's A Lie

by Kaori_Nagisa



Series: The Prophet and the Virgin Mary [12]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Biting, Blood and Gore, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Marking, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secret Relationship, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:18:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 59,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6410389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaori_Nagisa/pseuds/Kaori_Nagisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing can ever be perfect, but that doesn't mean one can't enjoy things while they last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Farewell and Into the Inevitable

Walking away from Saren that day had been one of the hardest things Nova had ever done - even worse than obeying her mother’s desperate plea to escape through the ventilation shaft in their small home back on Mindoir, and that in itself was a memory which still haunted her.

Every step she’d taken away from the skycar had seemed to cause more tiny little cracks to erupt all across her heart, pieces chipping away and leaving a trail of dust behind her. Tears had stung at her eyes, but she’d held them back all through the agonizing walk to the Jannuvus Program’s front door. Nirife and Ennius had been just inside, giving one more reason for her to keep her emotions in check as she’d returned the asari’s warm greeting. In a way, she was almost thankful for their presence during that first painful day apart.

As before, training had been exhilarating - and Nova threw herself into it even more wantonly than before, wanting to focus on _anything_ but the fact she may not see the Spectre again for months; on the desperate need she felt to message him or start a vidcall on the spot. She allowed the tension to build in her muscles, the exhaustion to take over with every lift and singularity. And at the end of the day’s lessons, Nova immediately took Nirife up on her offer to take their little squad out for dinner, hoping the continuing company and conversation would allow her to forget that her heart was slowly breaking.. at least for a little while.

It was fun, having dinner with people who had grown into such good friends after such a short time. Nirife, expectedly, spoke the most during their outing to a quaint little restaurant on the Silversun Strip. Neither Nova nor Ennius minded, though. The asari’s dominant personality was actually something they both enjoyed, looking to her as both an older, wiser friend and a steadfast leader. The night was spent discussing everything from the day’s training to the newest _Blasto_ movie that was rumored to be in production, Nova smiling and even being able to laugh, to forget. The only thing that worried her at all, during the few hours she spent with the two, was the odd way Ennius kept looking at her when he thought she was unaware. She could have sworn she saw his nostril plates moving a time or two, followed by a flick of his mandibles in a way which Nova could only describe as “awkward”. But aside from the turian’s strange behavior, the night was spent in a merry atmosphere, ending with the three of them taking a comfortable and refreshing walk along the Presidium back to their various lodgings.

It was only when she was finally alone in her apartment, eyes blankly roaming to the couch where Saren had held her earlier that day, that Nova’s carefully constructed mask finally fell to the floor, shattering into pieces along with her heart. The dam broke, tears pouring freely from her eyes as she could do little but sink to the floor and cry for what felt like an eternity. All the while, she yelled at herself for every decision she’d ever made that ended up with them having to part like that.

_Why did you have to join the Alliance?_

_Why did you go back to the program?_

_Why did you walk away from the one person you want to be with?_

In the end, she could only shake and sniffle like a child, curling into the corner of the living room as she mentally berated herself until finally logic and reason pushed the blaming away. There was no use dwelling on what she should or shouldn’t have done in the past year, for things were like this now and nothing she could do would change anything. But even as she finally talked herself out of the fortress of self pity she’d haphazardly erected, Nova couldn’t stop the regret. Gods, all she wanted at this very moment was to be with him again, feel those warm arms wrapping around her and letting that distinct musk engulf her as she buried her face into his neck. They had only spent two days together, yet it felt as if she’d been forced away from a life she’d been living for years.

“It’s not like you c-can’t even… talk to him anymore, stupid..” she chastised herself, that bundle of logic and sensible thinking still trying to sweep away all the hysterics. The morning hadn’t signalled the end of their… gods, what else _could_ she call it but a relationship? Even if Saren hadn’t stated it out loud, Nova had very little doubt that she was his.. girlfriend. His lover.. _no, no, that’s too heavy_ , she thought. Regardless, the turian’s words and actions had more than cemented the idea in her head, even as she tried to deny it for lack of hearing it directly from his own mouth. And as she had just tried to remind herself, the goodbye was not permanent; they still could message each other, could even sync up for vidcalls whenever possible.

The knowledge was probably the only thing keeping her from going into another fit of hysteria. But gods, could she survive on just those things alone now, after having been in his arms for two blissful days?

“You have to,” she whispered, biting down on her lip and wiping at her irritated eyes. She probably looked a right mess at the moment. It wasn’t easy, for her body still felt heavy, but eventually Nova dragged herself up off the floor, moving towards the bedroom so she could wash her face in the adjoining bathroom - taking the time to strip out of the Alliance jumpsuit and uncomfortable under armor as she did so. Once standing naked in front of the mirror, she splashed cold water all over her eyes and cheeks, gasping as it bit into her skin only to relax a moment later as the salty residue was wiped away.

Looking back up into the mirror, staring into her own red-rimmed eyes, Nova repeated, “You have to..”

She had to stay strong for him. If nothing else, he’d be disappointed at how pathetic she was acting only after a few hours away from each other… just imagining the disapproving dip of his brow plates had her fists clenching and her jaw setting tightly as she shook her head at her own silliness.

What kind of… she sighed, realizing “girlfriend” was the only term she could really use… what kind of girlfriend would she be if she couldn’t even handle a little separation between them now and again? Especially considering Saren’s line of work, which frequently took him not only light years away, but sometimes completely dropped him out of contact for weeks on end.

She had to be stronger than this. If not for her own sanity and happiness, then for his sake.

With that thought lingering in her mind all through her shower and trip to bed, Nova’s body easily succumbed to exhaustion - both mentally and physically - as her head hit the pillow. Blessedly, her sleep was blank and uneventful.. not even a dream involving Saren seemed to make it through the sweet oblivion brought on by her heavy fatigue. That in itself probably made things easier than they would have been otherwise.

* * * * *

The second day came and went, the final day of training being the hardest they’d experienced. Everything they had been taught up until that point came together in an amalgam of exercises, the instructors holding nothing back.

Nova didn’t have a single moment that day to dwell on her parting, focusing entirely on the orders Nirife was shouting to her and Ennius over the roar of biotic explosions happening around them. The three of them had become a single, cohesive entity, moving in sync and with a perfect, practiced accuracy that left hardly any room for slipups. Sometimes, Nova caught sight of the admiring way the other trainees stared at them, the envy and awe brought on by how well the three of them worked together - and cheering with every victory they brought the entire group.

It was exhilarating. Pure adrenaline rushing through her, melting away everything outside the training ground walls.

And when the entire group of biotics pushed together, everyone throwing their own energy into one powerful lift, the resounding cry of glee as they sent the instructors sprawling to the floor was deafening.

Hands clapped her on the back, sometimes five fingers, sometimes three, and Nova felt herself being lifted up by Ennius as Nirife whooped beside them, driving her fist into the air and literally _jumping_ with joy. The chattery excitement from the salarian trainee melded with the airy laughs and hurrahs from the asari, with Ennius’ flanging joining in as he spun her around with one arm and lifted his pistol into the air with the other, pounding it into the atmosphere before finally dropping it and Nova both to his side. The proud applause from the instructors - still obviously winded from the force of the biotic push - seemed to calm everyone a bit, as the true reality set in with the promising smiles on each of the women’s faces.

Their exhaustion came all too quickly, half of them nearly dragging themselves from the room and into the cafeteria, where silence ensued for as long as it took them all to shove a few energy bars down and chase them with juice. Then there was a long spiel from one of the asari instructora about how they all passed the program requirements with flying colors, how their scores and collected data would be sent to their commanding officers or parents or bosses or wherever else, and then the whole pitch about the Jannuvus Program’s mission… Nova was pretty sure half the room stopped really listening after a while.

Judging by the way even stoic, attentive Nirife was slumping a little against her shoulder, that was a relatively accurate assumption.

And then they were free, all twenty-something of them filing out of the building, laughing and talking despite everyone still recharging. It wasn’t until she was among the pristine white of the Presidium again that Nova realized it was over - completely, this time.

A cocktail of emotions went through her, the most resounding one being a deep sadness that seemed to springboard off of her already-weakened emotional state. It had only been a week, but the pure excitement and action she’d experienced during the program was like nothing Nova had ever experienced before - not even biotics training back on Earth held a candle to what she’d been through this past week. The exercises had been exhausting, stressful and demanding, but the feeling of _accomplishment_ she left with at the end of each day… it was irreplaceable. The friends she had made, the bonds that had been forged between all of them both on and off the training field… they was even more irreplaceable. Nova hadn’t even heard herself agreeing to Nirife’s suggestion that they all hang out at her apartment for the night, but as they sat in a skycar and zoomed through the Presidium, she found tears spilling from her eyes as she kept thinking on how this time tomorrow, she would be on an Alliance freighter bound for the _Hong Kong_ ’s newest docking location.

That life had seemed so far away, this past week. Between the Jannuvus Program, and then being with Saren... Nova felt a hand rest comfortingly over hers, turning to see Nirife’s chiselled, beautiful features softened into a smile.

“You okay?” she asked. Nova could only nod, wiping away the tears with her free hand and flushing slightly. She wasn’t even sure what had caused them - knowing that this was probably the last time she’d see all of those people, including the asari sitting next to her and the turian in the front seat, or still going through the pain of having to say goodbye to Saren. Either way, she felt embarrassed at having started crying in front of someone, especially when Nirife and Ennius both seemed in good spirits.

“I guess j-just.. realizing that was it. We’ve all finished the training..”

“Yeah. It was tough, but you heard the instructor - we all passed with flying colors.” Nirife let out a short laugh. “I’ll bet you that salarian will have offers coming in from STG within a month.”

Nova could only smile, fully agreeing with the woman’s assessment.

“Think that cabal will take you now, Ennius?” the asari continued, her gaze moving from Nova to face forward, where the turian gave her a quick glance from the rearview mirror. He popped his shoulder a little, mandibles flicking outward.

“Who knows. Pretty sure I surpassed their expectations, at least,” he rumbled, turning to look out of the window at the landscape blurring past their car.

The rest of the ride back to Nova’s apartment passed in silence, though Nirife made an effort to keep looking back to her, as if checking to make sure she was really okay. The ever present contact of her hand was reminiscent of a mother, and the thought of it had Nova’s gut twisting with regret even as the woman’s warmth seeped into her, bringing with it a measure of peace. But it stayed the sadness still built inside of her from knowing she’d be saying goodbye to someone yet again, in a few hours. Just as Saren had done with her, though, Nova promised herself that she’d make the most out of what little time she had left with her two newest friends. That was all she could really do.

And so they spent that last evening, not as a squad, but as three good friends having one last hurrah before they each went their separate ways out into the galaxy. Room service was ordered, they shared in some cocktails, and Nova sat back as she listened to each of them speak about their future plans, all the while keeping a smile on her face. Her eyes did drift to her omnitool, now and then, throat closing with a blockage before she pushed the emotions away and swallowed it down, not wanting to spend her last evening with these two remarkable biotics just crying like a child. And so she listened as Ennius contemplated on and then laid out plans for how he would circumvent a cabal and instead try to get himself a posting in C-Sec, mentioning how the work seemed more honest and a place he could better put his skills to use in. She continued to listen as Nirife made comments to her over how, had she been an asari, she’d be recommending her for commando training by now - then switching gears to talk about her upcoming assignment to some Matriarch Benezia as one of many personal guards.

In the end, Nirife was the first to succumb to exhaustion, one too many drinks knocking her out like a light on the couch, where Nova pulled a blanket and pillow over and tried to make her more comfortable.

“So who is he?” she heard Ennius say behind her, voice quiet but with a noticeable slur. He hadn’t drank quite as heavily or indulgently as the asari, but tell-tale signs of intoxication were there when she turned to look at him. The question caught her off guard, and for a moment Nova just stared at him in confusion, still kneeling next to where Nirife lay sleeping. At a tilt of her head, he gave a chuckle - the sound rumbling through his second set of vocal chords and reminding her all too clearly of another man’s laugh.

He raised his half-empty glass towards her, motioning to the chair across from his own, inviting her to take a seat. “You have the smell of another turian on you, Nova.”

“T-There are a lot of turians on the Citadel..” she stated lamely, moving to sit down and feeling a flush working its way up her neck. Ennius gave another chuckle, leaning back in his own chair and taking a drink.

“You know what I mean. My species have a better sense of smell than humans, so when someone’s been, er… _intimate_ with one, it’s, uh.. easy for us to tell.” He dipped his head, looking away from her for a moment, and after a few seconds of silence passed, Nova realized it must have been an attempt at an apology. “Sorry, that was.. blunt. And uh… sorry. I guess that’s kind of intrusive, too. The guy’s scent is just… _all over_ you. It’s been hard to ignore. And sorry to say, I can’t help being curious.”

“He’s.. I-I spent the two, um.. recoup days w-with my.. m-my, um..” Gods, just saying the word had her face heating up. “B-Boyfriend.. w-we haven’t gotten to see each other in a.. in a long time, s-so..”

A mandible quirked out in a lopsided smile. “Dodging my original question, I see. That’s fine, no sense digging into your private life anyway. I just hope he’s treating you right… a few times I thought I smelled..”

She waited for him to finish, but Ennius just went quiet for a moment before finally shaking his head, mumbling a “nevermind” before finishing the last of his cocktail. She didn’t really feel like prompting him to continue, and so the two of them fell into a comfortable silence - Nova’s thoughts inevitably drifting to the Spectre. She was thankful that Ennius’ gaze moved from her after a moment, as she wasn’t sure she could take being stared at while trying to hold back fragile emotions; they became numerous within only a few minutes, the pain in her chest resurfacing along with the tears that stung at her eyes.

Gods, what she wouldn’t give just to be held one more time by Saren. To feel his arms wrap around her, be pulled against his broad chest and simply lay there, listening to his heart beat from deep within the hardened carapace.

Eventually, she saw Ennius’ posture relax, his head loll to one side as his eyes closed. Sleep had finally come for him as well, and Nova was almost thankful that it gave her an excuse to get up and move about as she retrieved a few blankets for him. It gave her a little time to shake off the heavy feeling that had started to fall on her shoulders as she’d sat brooding in the chair. But the movement only lasted for a few minutes, as she made sure the sheets would stay on the turian and then made her way towards the bedroom, feeling exhaustion beginning to creep in on her now too.

As before, she was pulled under as soon as her head touched the pillow, leaving her hardly any time to settle in before darkness surrounded her and dragged her into oblivion. This time, however, she dreamt.

She dreamed of warm arms surrounding her, a world of silver filling her vision and chasing away the black depths. And a familiar purr at her ear, vibrations feeling all too real... letting her imagine, at least for a little while, that Saren was still here with her.

* * *

  
The next day came all too soon, and with it, the second set of painful goodbyes. Nirife had hugged her, promising to try to keep in contact if she was able to, and wishing the both of them the best. Ennius had also hugged her, a surprising thing in and of itself. But unlike Nirife’s full body contact, pressing them together in a tight squeeze like one would expect of a sister or mother, the turian had only offered one arm, awkwardly bringing her close to him with it before moving away all too quickly. Nirife’s final words had been a tease to the man and an elbow into his lower carapace, bringing a smile to all of their faces and letting them part easier.

It had only been an hour after saying goodbye to them that Nova heard an alert from her omnitool.

She paused just outside the connecting bridge leading into the Alliance freighter, heart feeling as if it would leap from her chest. Hands fumbled as she gripped the device and called it up, the orange glow contrasting against her pale-flushed skin as she stood in the dim light of Widow filtering in from the nebula. Eyes scanned the screen quickly, only to feed back a bitter spoon of disappointment as she saw the single message from Corona sitting in her inbox.

Immediately she felt guilt over the feeling. Gods, just a month ago she would have been smiling bigger than a kid during Christmas from seeing a message from her cousin.. her family.

Shaking her head, she opened it and read through quickly. It was a simple breakdown of her return trip; each transfer she’d have to make and what dock to find the _Hong Kong_ in once she arrived on Elysium. It was sparse and to the point, but finally a smile managed to tug at her lips as she read the final few sentences, where the woman allowed some of their familial connection to show through - dropping the commander persona and simply returning to _Corona_ as she talked about how much she was looking forward to Nova’s return and hearing all about the past week.

There were times where she felt winded at the impact, as the fact of her having living family hit her hard in her chest. The first week after the woman had spoken to her about it, Nova had found herself awkwardly standing in the middle of a corridor, mind completely flushed of everything except the words “I have a family”. She’d cried a lot during that period of time, even more so within the commander’s presence as the reality kept hitting her. And just as it had then, she nearly staggered with emotion as she typed out a quick reply, barely able to hold back tears.

They were not for Corona, however, not this time. Instead, the impact left a wide opening for guilt to bubble up over having not contacted Saren even once since they’d been forced to part.

“Come on, ma’am. Can’t wait here all day,” came a gruff voice from behind her, and Nova looked up to see the freighter’s XO briskly walking towards her, nodding his head towards the airlock.

“S-Sorry, was just going over my c-commanding officer’s instructions one more time, sir,” she said, bowing slightly in apology before remembering to salute instead. The man just gave a crisp nod, moving past her and walking along the connecting bridge, rallying up the few straggling soldiers still idling.

Her gaze dipped back down to her omnitool, gut churning uncomfortably as she followed after the officer and entered the darkness of the ship.

_I’ll message you as often as you like, and we can still sync up for vidcalls when we’re able._

She would have liked a message every single minute since she’d left, but as she found herself a seat deeper within the ship, Nova realized that the past two days of zero contact may have been for the best. For all she knew, Saren had intentionally gone silent, trying to give her space to focus on training without stopping to think about him in the thick of it… not that she hadn’t been doing so every minute she was left alone with her thoughts. And then there was the second, more painful explanation - that he was hurting just as much as her, able only to wait on her to resume contact first for fear of making the separation worse before it even truly began. A laugh escaped, short and miserable, as part of her argued that her big, stoic Spectre was likely doing perfectly well - much better than herself, at least… all the while, the other part reminding her of his strangled, raspy voice that last day together.

Saren had been through hell over the years, yet had always presented a calm, hard-hearted persona to the world at large, and even to her for the longest time. But he had removed that mask for her, however briefly. He’d allowed her to see the pain he hid beneath the surface.

She swiped away a stray tear that made it past her lashes, chest tightening as she navigated to her mail once more. Her hand still shook as she attempted to type out a message to him, each time deleting and trying again, the words never sounding right. By the time she actually got more than a sentence or two out, she felt the tell-tale lurch - almost imperceptible unless you were used to being on starships - as the freighter began to pull out of the dock.

“Saren…”

His name fell from her lips as a whisper, eyes misting over as a hook seemed to catch on her heart and tug on it painfully as the line was reeled in. Gods, this was really it, wasn’t it? Soon she’d be light years away from him again, forced to return back to their usual setup of messages for weeks on end, with a vidcall sparsely sprinkled here and there. Her fingers went back to the keypad of her omnitool, even as tears started freely rolling down her cheeks; she finished the message, concerned only with not letting her pain show, caring little for holding back about anything else.

 _We’re heading out soon. I’ll try to contact you again when I’ve made it back to the_ Hong Kong _._

_I already miss you so much. Do you know how long it’ll be before you have a new assignment? Hopefully we’ll have enough time to message or vidcall before you have to set out yourself._

_I hope you’re doing okay. And Saren? I want to thank you for everything. This week had already been great, but being with you made it just._

_I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I was during those two days together. Thank you for putting up with me, and talking to me, and everything else. Just. Thank you for being there with me. I just hope we can see each other again soon, face to face._  
  
_I’ll wait for you. Please take care._


	2. Phantom

The apartment had felt so empty upon his return. 

It was ironic, how he had hardly given the place a second glance before. It had felt useless; an unnecessary asset, given how little he tended to stop at the Citadel, let alone spend more than a single night on the space station. It served only the most basic of utility for him - a place to sleep, a place to shower, and a working terminal hooked up to the extranet as well as private Spectre channels. Yet as he had stepped over the threshold, Saren couldn’t seem to stop feeling a gnawing sense of  _ loneliness _ settling into the apartment. 

Where before it had merely been a silent testament to his lack of use, now it felt as if the very life had been completely sucked out. The bare walls seemed to mock him, the wide empty spaces pointing unseen, accusatory fingers at him for letting go of the light that had sustained it. Spirits, how had it started feeling like a home within just a few days?

That had been the point in which his subvocals released a loud keen, unbidden but shaking his very core and nearly knocking the breath out of him as he all but stumbled to the counter separating the living area from the kitchen. A growl resounded from his primary larynx, weak and more reminiscent of a frightened animal than a predator, and Saren raked a hand over his face. Within only a few seconds of walking inside, he felt as if the very air was trying to suffocate him. And through it all, he could only see the image of her walking away from him. 

“Damn it, infuriating woman..” he whispered through gritted teeth, leaning heavily on the counter as he tried to wipe the memory away. It wasn’t as if that was the last time he would ever see her - hell, if he’d stop acting as if he’d been shot, he could go up to the terminal in the bedroom and contact her immediately. But between the uncomfortable sense of loss that had lodged a rock in his throat and a weight in his chest, and realizing he could very well jeopardize her concentration for the last two days of training, Saren couldn’t bring himself to move at all. 

When he finally did, his steps were heavy and making a beeline towards the refrigeration unit, nearly wrenching it open as he quickly glanced around the contents. Spirits, she’d left her touch everywhere… he could barely contain a pathetic whine as he shuffled over the few remaining ingredients she’d bought a few days ago. The fact she had  _ cooked _ for him still baffled the Spectre, bringing that beautiful picture back into his mind of her standing over the stove, intently watching that pot of soup boiling before jumping at the sound of his voice. Spirits, it had looked so  _ right _ . Damn it all, she belonged here with  _ him _ , not in the human military. That suffocating emptiness within the apartment reared its head once more as he glanced over to the now-abandoned stove, almost able to see the shadow of Nova standing there. A year ago he would have been disgusted at the thoughts running through his mind now; of how he wanted to walk in from a long assignment and see that damnably beautiful human girl waiting for him with food on the table and a soothing smile on her face. He growled, eyes returning to the contents of the refrigeration unit before he finally scowled and moved away, slamming the door closed in irritation. 

He needed alcohol. A lot of it. 

Spirits, why had he gotten rid of it all? The answer came quickly enough, though he shoved the thoughts aside as he stalked back towards the door, almost grateful for an excuse to escape the lifeless space. They had only been together for two days, yet somehow her presence had made the place start feeling like a  _ home _ . Now, with her gone, it was even more barren than before he’d brought her there. That fact was ridiculous and aggravating, sending a surge of anger through the Spectre before it quickly smoldered out, instead being replaced by a heavy sense of loss. He only too gladly stepped out of the apartment and nearly ran down the hall towards the elevator. 

* * * * *

He was uncomfortably reminded of a time period shortly after Nihlus became a Spectre, in which the younger turian had drowned himself in the bottle for a good few months. It had been in response to the sudden death of his mother - who up until then, had been his only living family. Understandably, Nihlus took it hard; for weeks he blamed himself, ranting in drunken stupors whenever Saren checked in on him over how it was his fault, how he was a bad son, and how there had been so much he hadn’t told her. At the time, Saren had thought it pathetic - unworthy of a Spectre, and certainly not fitting the man he had taken under his wing and trained. And after a month, he bluntly said so. 

Ironic then, how Saren himself was now trying to escape the irritating feeling of loneliness by drinking himself into a stupor. 

He spent that first day just immobilized on a previously-unused chair in the living room, blankly staring out the blinds at the Presidium. The only movement he made was reaching for the next bottle and cracking it open, once he had finished the last - until eventually, drunken exhaustion rose to claim him and made it almost impossible to even lift his arms. But with it came a blissful calm in his mind, all thoughts of Nova pushed back behind the curtain of inebriation. Time eventually ceased to exist, the world around him becoming little more than a blur as he sat staring at nothing and everything. 

He couldn’t have even guessed the time he finally closed his eyes and fell asleep, but the next time Saren awoke, the apartment was dark - as was the Presidium outside. The station’s inner ring had shifted over to the night cycle, it seemed. For a moment, in his half-awake state, Saren debated on pulling himself up and at least relocating to the bedroom, but right as the headache hit, he pushed those thoughts away. 

It would smell too much like her. The thought of sleeping alone in that room, without a tiny, soft little human pinned against his side, caused a tired keen to escape his second larynx. He shut his eyes almost indignantly and settled back in. 

No, he’d rather suffer a stiff neck in the morning from the damn chair. 

The second day ended up no better, with him spending the first half of it nursing a hangover and pointedly avoiding going anywhere within the apartment that Nova had lingered in. He wanted to get  _ out _ of the place, but where else could he go in the sorry state he was in? Nihlus was always an option, but he wasn’t exactly feeling up to dealing with the younger turian - nor did he enjoy the thought of trying to explain why he had drank himself into a stupor the night before. So Saren grudgingly spent the day locked up in the apartment, suffering through the headache and the constant feeling of needing to expel his stomach contents, all the while trying to sober up with coffee peppered sparsely through the hours. 

But soon, thoughts of her floated back into his mind. He found himself walking into imaginings throughout the day, memories played overtop reality in a mockery of a life he had never lived. He’d turn a corner and see her standing there, shimmering slightly with an incorporeal aura as she turned to him and smiled, the expression so beautiful that he’d let out a desperate keen as she disappeared. Other times, he would be sitting in the same chair as before, glaring out at the skycars zooming through the Presidium, when suddenly it was as if she had actually walked up behind him and placed a hand on his arm - the warmth almost too real, too maddening in how soothing it was. He tried to chalk it up to a last remaining pocket of inebriation, but as the day went on, Saren felt an aching pain in his chest as he kept seeing a life he was desperately beginning to want. It became so great that he once again forced alcohol down his throat, even as the taste of it became more bitter and disgusting - not stopping until his thoughts were too muddled to even think of his  _ amatra _ , let alone anything else. As before, he fell asleep in a drunken torpor. 

Spirits, she really was going to be the death of him. 

And finally the third day came, though he slept through most of it - waking periodically only to stare out the window in a haze, before forcing his eyes closed again and resting some more. His bones ached and he was sure he’d have to suffer a few days with a stiff neck - not to mention a raging headache - but every time he tried to force himself up, Saren never felt ready. And so it was a good few hours after the fact that he saw the message from Nova, having finally pulled himself out of the uncomfortably unaccomodating chair and checked his omnitool while trying to find something easy to stomach in the refrigeration unit. 

Spirits. His headache only seemed to worsen as he read over her words, chest feeling heavy with grief and guilt. 

_ I already miss you so much.  _

_ I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I was during those two days.  _

_ I’ll wait for you.  _

“Damn it, Nova,” he growled, eyes closing as he sank against the wall. She didn’t belong in the Alliance, she belonged  _ here _ . He never should have let her go, but the realization was far too late, and now he could only curse at his decision. Spirits, if he’d known how much pain this would cause them both, he never would have allowed her to leave - future consequences be damned. He’d fallen ill with irritating emotions, so unnecessary yet consuming his entire being - body and soul. And his  _ amatra _ was the only remedy, but now she was light years away from him and trapped behind bureaucratic red tape.

He had yet to even begin to formulate a response, yet already craved the blissful oblivion of intoxication. 

But his fingers soon moved across the keys, Saren fighting off the pain he felt all over and pushing through the need for alcohol. He wasn’t going to make her suffer silence any longer, at least not while he was in mostly-full control of his mental faculties. But spirits, he felt his hand tremble as he deleted things and retyped, agonizing over every word and wondering what was too much, what was too little.. how had a damn  _ woman _ knocked him out of balance this much?

As he finally finished and forced himself to send it, reminding himself that it would be at most a five minute delay on any return message making it to his mail, Saren couldn’t help sighing. 

Three days. It was such a short time, yet as he looked around the apartment, seeing empty bottles of alcohol strewn about wherever he’d wandered aimlessly to during them, he realized just how deeply he had fallen. The pain now was bad enough that he could only think of washing it away with booze - unwilling to face the pangs of loneliness that he was so unused to. He had always been a solitary creature, had spent nearly thirty years as one. Companionship - whether that of a friend or of a sexual partner - had never appealed to him; he had never seen the need for it. What use did he have for attachments, when his work tended to take him to the most dangerous corners of the galaxy, dropped him from contact for weeks on end as he investigated leads and cut a bloody path through any who posed a threat to galactic peace? In fact, forming attachments to anything posed a danger not only to it but to himself. 

Yet here he was, pining after a damned human female. A  _ human _ , of all things. The universe certainly had a fucked up sense of humor.

Perhaps he should try to sober up enough to pay Nihlus a visit. The man was more experienced in things like this than he could ever hope to be, and grudgingly though the admittance was, Saren couldn’t help thinking that getting some advice from the younger Spectre may at least ease some of this burden. It had to be better than drinking himself into immobilization every single day she was gone.

As his eyes fell to an unopened bottle, however, the pain in his chest drove him to drown in one last drink - just enough to dull the feeling for a while longer.

* * *

  
By the time Nova reached Elysium, she felt dead on her feet. Ironic, considering how she’d been able to do little more than sleep during the entire journey, in between the transfers. 

The sun had already set by the time she stepped off the cruiser, leaving the docks in a dark gloom save for the lights set in regular intervals all along the floors, ceiling, and walls. Nova quietly followed the officer through the wide open area of the main spaceport, shifting her duffel bag tiredly and barely able to contain yawns as they made their way towards the docking bay where the  _ Hong Kong _ was located. As much as she would be happy to see the familiar ship and greet the crew again, Nova couldn’t help hoping everyone would be asleep right now; she wanted to go straight back to her quarters and pass out on an actual  _ bed _ . Sleeping upright in a barely-padded chair for so long was not exactly the most comfortable thing she had ever experienced.

She thankfully seemed likely to get her wish, as the only person waiting for her outside the  _ Hong Kong _ ’s airlock was Corona. The woman gave a gentle smile as she approached, though it dropped just long enough for the time it took her to snap off a salute to the other ship’s officer. 

“Thank you for getting my lieutenant home safely,” she said, nodding to the man as he returned the salute then briskly turned on his heel and headed back the way they had came from, satisfied his work was complete for the night. After he was out of earshot, Corona turned to her again, the smile returning. “Good to see you looking no worse for wear, kid.”

She offered an arm, which Nova stepped into with only a moment’s hesitation. The woman wrapped it around her shoulders in a friendly manner, turning and walking into the ship side by side with her, grip strong but careful. As they stood in the decontamination chamber, Nova flushed as she saw Corona’s lavender eyes studying her. 

“S-Something on my face, ma’am?” was all she could stutter out, averting her own gaze down to the floor and having a strange, distinct feeling that she’d somehow done something wrong. But Corona only gave a light pat to her opposing shoulder, a chuckle finding its way out.

“Don’t give me that ‘ma’am’ crap right now, Nova. I haven’t seen you in a week.” The decon notification set in, the airlock sealing tightly behind them as the process started. Corona’s smile fell, slightly, as she parted from Nova and stood back to look her over once more - still keeping her hands on the younger woman’s shoulders. “Have you always glowed this much, Nova?” 

“... G-Glowed..?”

“Yeah, you just look… refreshed? Have this weird, glowy sort of air about you, your skin looks even softer than before… I was thinking you’d look a little rougher after a week’s worth of hardcore training. But here you are looking like you-”

Corona’s mouth shut with a near audible click, and a thin smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth before she covered it with a hand and turned away, shaking her head as if whatever she’d been about to say was unimportant. Nova wasn’t entirely sure, but she could have sworn she saw a flush creep up into the woman’s cheeks. 

“Anyway.. it’s good to have you back on board, lieutenant. The ship’s felt a little quieter without you around.”

“It’s good to be back.. I’ve missed you, and everyone…” Nova only wished she could feel as if she was  _ home _ again. But during the past week, it seemed as if her true home had changed.. and was now light years away. Corona looked her over a moment longer before that easy smile resurfaced on her lovely features. Finally, the interior bulkhead opened as the decon process finished, and the two of them made their way inside and down the - oddly empty - corridors to the elevator. 

“Don’t suppose you’d feel like staying up to chat about the past week for a bit?” Corona asked, and Nova couldn’t help a guilty flush heating her neck. Before she’d even opened her mouth, she heard the other woman laugh quietly. Corona leaned against the railing in a relaxed fashion, letting her head fall back against the wall of the compartment. “Yeah, figured not. Can only imagine how wiped out you are after all of that training, then the trip back.” 

“I-I’m sorry… I shouldn’t.. e-even be this tired, I slept through most of the ride here, but..”

“No need to apologize or give me excuses, Nova. I understand.” The commander fixed her with another gentle smile as the elevator pinged quietly, signalling their arrival on the crew deck. The older woman’s hand found its way to Nova’s shoulder as they exited, patting it twice before withdrawing again as Corona took a few steps towards the direction of her cabin. “We’ll be able to catch up tomorrow, so get some rest, lieutenant. You’ve earned it.”

Nova nodded, giving a thankful smile of her own as she turned and made her way down the familiar hall towards her shared quarters, hoping that Julia wouldn’t be in the mood to chat right then. 

Strangely enough, the woman wasn’t even inside her room when Nova finally stepped through the door. She even took a moment to look around the entirety of the space, being left to wonder at the oddness before exhaustion reminded her that she could do so later - after she had a decent night’s sleep in an actual bed. Disregarding the emptiness, Nova quietly made her way over to her own door. A feeling of nostalgia hit her as she followed the dim glow from the thin emergency lights over to her drawers, turning on the bedside lamp and dropping her duffel bag on the floor next to her. 

Well, at least the room still felt a little like home - even if she was struggling to place that word overtop the rest of the  _ Hong Kong _ now. As she dug through her bag and started removing the clothes she’d acquired while on the Citadel, that struggle became even worse. 

Her chest felt heavy as she pulled out the various dresses, tops, skirts, and shoes she’d decided to take with her. It had hardly been but a few days since Saren had dragged her down to the Wards and into that quaint little fashion boutique, yet it felt almost an eternity now as she looked them over. Guilt bubbled in her mind as she realized how little opportunity she’d have to wear hardly any of this, save for the random bit of shore leave they may receive every few months.. in the end, Saren had just wasted his money on her. Even as she tried to remind herself that she had begged him not to and he had still insisted, saying the purchases would be a pittance, Nova felt her arms go slack as she simply stared down at a low-cut blouse, unable to push the guilt away. 

With it came one more harsh stab in her heart, a grim reminder of how far away the Spectre was now. It was odd, how only two brief days together had caused her to become this attached to his presence. She’d had a crush on him for an entire year, had thought endlessly about him over the days, wishing she could be next to him again rather than so far apart - yet she’d survived with just messages and vidcalls all during that period of time, hadn’t she?

Why did it feel so much harder now?

Calling up her omnitool, Nova looked back over his last message - having been sent a good few hours after her original farewell, and then she herself had taken an hour to reply back. Her chest clenched as she stared at that final entry, eyes stinging with tears at the empty space left by his lack of further response. She’d been able to think of little else but Saren for the entire journey to Elysium, and the brief contact suddenly being dropped again had been eating away at her carefully-held composure for nearly a day. Now, as she slumped against the side of the bed and curled her legs up close to her chest, Nova couldn’t stop a few tears from being shed, the saltwater landing atop her bare arms as she buried her face into them. 

She wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again. It didn’t matter where, it didn’t matter for how long - though she gladly would have taken eternity as an option - and it didn’t matter how. She just wanted to feel that familiar warmth, be able to melt into the safety he had always brought her, and listen to his heart beat from deep within his chest. Two days with him hadn’t been enough; in fact, her fondness had only grown in that time, become so unbearably painful that this separation felt as if it’d tear her apart, seam by seam. She’d been allowed…  _ everything _ , almost. Her year-long wish to be with him had been granted; her desire to be more than a friend to him had been fulfilled; her curiosity about him had began to be sated as he allowed her to see a part of himself he never showed to anyone else.

If she stopped for too long and dwelt on it, Nova could have sworn she felt his talons caressing over her shoulder, and the rough texture of his mouth pressing against hers. Ghosts of him, phantom memories of a man she desperately wanted to be with again.   
  
Gods, she just wanted to hear his voice one more time, if nothing else. She missed him too much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ao3 is screwing with me I think >.> On my dash this story is showing as the 13th in the series even though it's only the 12th, but then on the main page it's displaying the numerical value properly. 
> 
> Oh well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ enjoy these two suffering.


	3. Morning Routine

He hadn’t managed to see Nihlus. 

Between the first bottle he’d opened after responding to Nova, and the second he  _ had _ to have to combat the ache her reply brought an hour later, Saren hadn’t been in much of a state to even walk around the apartment without the room swaying - let alone go outside or entertain thoughts of speaking to anyone. So he had kept himself in a controlled stupor for the rest of the day, finally succumbing to exhaustion not long after the Presidium shifted over to the night cycle. 

He rarely dreamed, but as he slept that night, images played behind his eyes like a strange, slow-motion vid - oddly blurred at the edges, illusory in how things played out yet still feeling so uncomfortably  _ real _ at times. 

She never left his thoughts. It was a maddening fact, yet at the same time Saren was so very  _ thankful _ for it. He wasn’t sure if he could take her absence in his mind alongside her physically not being with him. 

The dreams never followed an orderly sequence of events; they were more like snapshots of activity and scenery, always quickly slipping away to be replaced by something new. But there was one thing similar for each, and it was that every single one focused entirely on  _ her _ . Sometimes he would be watching her preparing food at the counter, her skin flushed slightly from the heat of the stove and a slim apron tied around her front - enticingly tight along her chest. Other times, he would be sitting on the couch with her cradled in his lap, her back resting along the front of his carapace as they watched some inane program on the vidscreen; she’d make idle conversation now and again, sometimes about the show, sometimes about nothing in particular - and he didn’t mind either way, simply mesmerized by the sound of her soothing voice. Then the scene would abruptly change again, this time with her pinned beneath him on the bed, her face the picture of ecstasy as they reached their peak together, her tiny hands eclipsed in his own and tightening around them as they rode out the waves of pleasure. Yet another shift, and now he lay staring up at an endless, unfamiliar sky painted in hues of pink and blue; soft grass caressed his bare hide, whispered along his skin until he felt a warmth shift beside him and soon Nova’s faced appeared before him, her lips brushing his mouth plates. 

_ Spirits _ , how he longed for her again. Every snapshot of a life unlived seemed to crush against his chest, weighing him down with grief and an entirely new range of emotions he had never felt before. All Saren wanted was his beautiful disaster of an  _ amatra _ back. But with that being a sad impossibility, he allowed the dreams to consume him for a time. 

Even if she was physically light years away from him, at least he could escape to her embrace within them. 

* * *

 

 

Morning came all too soon for Nova. 

She vaguely waved at the alarm on her holo-chrono, having to swipe her hand over the face of it at least ten times before it finally registered movement and shut off the incessant beeping. Groaning, she flopped over on her back, struggling to open her eyes. Even the dim glow of the emergency lights seemed far too bright in her sleepy state, and every attempt she made was punctuated by a whine and her eyelids sliding closed once more. 

The corners of her eyes felt crusty, tiny pinpricks of pain flickering with every movement her lids made. She absently rubbed at them, trying to dislodge the annoyances as a yawn broke free from her lips and echoed into the silence of her room. 

The bed felt too cold. Nova pulled the thick duvet tighter about herself, tugging the edge up under her chin as she tried to make a little cocoon to trap her body heat in. She’d had the same problem with the bed back at the apartment she’d stayed at during her time with the Jannuvus Program - waking each morning only to shiver and burrow deeper into the bedding, wrapping herself in the sheets to the point she couldn’t hardly move her arms. She hadn’t had that problem the first few nights she’d been there, though.. only after the two nights spent with Saren had she started feeling far too chilly upon waking up. It would have been odd to most people, considering how thin the sheets of his bed had been. 

She knew why, though. The distinct lack of a turian space heater would have made any other bed feel like ice in comparison.

So she tried in vain to get warm again, shifting around this way and that, attempting to keep herself on the heated space of the bed where she’d rested all night. But every attempt seemed doomed for failure, and eventually Nova simply gave up, pulling herself off the pillow and sitting upright as she continued rubbing at her sleep-encrusted eyes. Blearily, she looked to the chronometer; 0900, a good couple of hours later than she normally slept while aboard the ship. She winced slightly, feeling guilty and more than a little worried about getting an earful from Corona about it. She’d certainly dealt with some harsh reprimands over it before, back in basic. 

Despite her body disagreeing with her, Nova pulled away the sheets and threw her legs to the side, feet hitting the floor and immediately dragging her up with the momentum. Stars danced in her eyes for a moment, and she steadied herself against the set of drawers beside the bed as she rubbed them once more. A yawn escaped while she bent down to pull out her fatigues, and Nova went through the motions of changing with hardly a thought - far too tired and too out of it to focus on anything beyond stripping out of the thin shirt she wore to bed and quickly slipping into her clothes, then gathering up a clean pair of underwear and her bra. 

At 0915, she was exiting her own room and stepping into Julia’s, arms laden with toiletries for her morning shower. She noted, with another pang of worry, that her fellow lieutenant was still nowhere to be found, the space looking completely untouched from how it had been the night before. Even so, Nova tried to reassure herself with the thought that perhaps Julia had already been up and going for a few hours now. It wouldn’t have been abnormal for her to be away from her quarters around this time; even while in dry dock, there was an endless amount of tasks to be done aboard the ship, many of which were static day-to-day activities. Julia had always been a diligent worker, after all.. but even still, the empty, undisturbed room bothered her as she made her way through it and out the main door of their shared quarters, briskly turning in the direction of the women’s showers. 

She tried to put it out of her mind as she made her way down the corridor and palmed the door control. She was already running late this morning, and stopping to worry about something that likely had a completely rational explanation to it wasn’t going to help her get cleaned and properly dressed any faster. Nova figured she had enough to deal with just thinking on the reprimand she’d possibly receive from the commander; unpleasant memories from basic, of the morning reveille blaring in every room and hallway within the base, ran through her head as she recalled the harsh scolding she’d received from instructors on those rare mornings she couldn’t drag herself out of bed even with the cacophony vibrating in her eardrums. 

Yes, she certainly wasn’t looking forward to a possible repeat of that. 

The water hissed as it fell from the showerhead, steam quickly rising from the sparkling fall as Nova stripped out of her fatigues and underwear. When she stepped under the stream, she couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath as the heat scalded against her skin for a moment, before she finally became used to the temperature. She let the water run through her hair, dripping down to circle her cheeks and fall to the floor below as she placed a hand on the wall in front of her. Leaning heavily on it for a moment, she sighed in relief as the warmth soothed out the tension still left in her muscles. The last vestiges of sleep vanished with them, and as she finally reached for her shampoo, Nova felt much more awake and alert than before she’d stepped under the flow. 

She washed herself quickly, the motions familiar and coming easy to her; at least there was  _ one _ thing she hadn’t fallen out of practice with during her week away. Eventually she reached for the towel hanging just to the side of the shower space, turning the faucet off and shivering in the sudden cold before running the stiff cloth over her soaked body. She retreated over to where her clothes lay on the sink counter, dressing with the speed one would expect of a trained soldier and soon standing in front of the mirror, clothed in her fatigues. Nova set about washing her face and brushing her teeth, pointedly avoiding staring at her reflection too long during the activity. 

She had a habit of thinking too much when she did. And she had no  _ time _ to think this morning.

* * * * *

The familiar corridors of the  _ Hong Kong _ somehow felt empty this morning. Nova smiled and greeted any crew she came across, only stopping to catch up for a minute or two before continuing on. She mentally checked off anyone who was conspicuously absent from their usual post; in addition to Julia, Nova had yet to run into Patterson, Rodriguez, Aronson, Pavlovich, or Mattock. It shifted from an oddity to vaguely worrisome as she added names to the list of missing while making her way as quickly as possible towards the CIC, where she could usually find Corona. As she stepped out of the elevator onto the command deck, Nova decided she’d ask about it when she found the chance to. 

Corona’s red hair could easily be seen through the holographic galaxy map floating in the center of the oval-shaped space in this area of the ship. As Nova made her approach, the woman looked up from the console she had been working at, her striking lavender eyes smiling warmly even before the corners of her lips lifted into a real one. 

“Finally decided to join us in the waking world, lieutenant?” she quipped, turning to lean casually against the edge of the console. Nova bowed her head, feeling a guilty flush rising along her neck. 

“I-I’m so sorry, ma’am. I must have s-slept through my.. my alarm..” She straightened her shoulders, still keeping her eyes downcast respectfully as she continued, “B-But that’s no excuse to s-sleep in when there’s so much w-work to do, s-so.. so I, um.. a-accept any punishment..” 

“Punishment?” Corona asked, voice dripping with such genuine confusion that Nova looked up, feeling almost startled by it. The baffled expression on her face matched the tone, one eyebrow cocked and her smile lessened, mouth instead now twisted in a dubious angle. 

“I… I-I’m.. um… late to my posting, m-ma’am?”

“Nova, what are you on about?” 

Nova was now the one to stare at the commander in confusion. Her lips parted to speak, but closed almost as quickly as they had opened, her tongue staying motionless as she took a moment to think. Was she still asleep, and just dreaming that she’d woken up late on her first day back? The irony of that nearly made her laugh, but Nova merely took a breath and shifted some weight to her right leg, hip bending slightly as she met her commanding officer’s gaze. 

“C-Commander Shepard, I formally apologize for being late for my duties. T-There’s no excuse for me to be slacking off on my first day back here aboard the  _ Hong Kong _ , a-and so… u-um..” she started, biting her lip as her thoughts trailed off and she gave a halfhearted salute - still utterly rattled by the look of sheer confusion present on the older woman’s face. A moment later, she gave a slight jump as laughter poured from Corona’s throat, the sound carefree and lighter than expected given the deep timbre of the woman’s voice. It spilled out onto Nova with a refreshing vibrancy, even as she could only stare wide-eyed at the woman, completely out of her element in this situation and feeling a wave of embarrassment pass through her as she felt the curious stares of some of the crew lingering around the CIC.

She waited long enough for the chuckles to die down some before asking, “I-I.. u-um.. is something.. d-did I miss something, C-Commander?”

Corona covered her mouth with a hand, still trying to reign in her laughter enough to speak but having a hard time doing so. Leaning heavily on the console, she fixed Nova with an amused gaze. A simple shake of her head was all Nova received for another moment. When the older woman finally took a deep breath, as if gasping for air, she moved closer and nodded her head towards the elevator, whispering, “Walk with me for a sec.” 

Nova did as asked, falling in step behind her CO and trying to ignore the disapproving stare from Operations Chief Sergei. The two of them boarded the elevator, and Corona waited until the door closed behind them before she wrapped a comforting arm around Nova’s shoulder, pulling her in against her side and allowing another quick laugh to escape as she tousled the younger woman’s hair. Nova gave an indignant squeak at the action, attempting to pull away until Corona stopped just as quickly as she had started. When she looked up, the younger Shepard saw that same gentle smile rising on the commander’s lips. 

“You really were out of it last night, huh?” Corona began, loosening her hold on the blonde just enough for Nova to stand up a little straighter. Upon seeing the cock of Nova’s head, she continued. “I told you last night that you had today  _ off _ , remember? As in, no need to report for your usual assigned duties, or even have to leave your quarters at all if you didn’t want to?”

“... Y-You did, ma’am?” Nova said, her voice embarrassingly high as the flush from before grew and began sliding up into her cheeks. She was already trying to wrack her brain, picking through the memories of her arrival on Elysium and subsequent boarding of the  _ Hong Kong _ , but only bits and pieces stuck out… most of which seemed to center on her painfully empty inbox; she quickly shoved thoughts of Saren out of her head before they had time to settle, knowing full well that dwelling on him for even a few seconds could plummet her mood exponentially. 

She hadn’t even checked her omnitool this morning, almost afraid to find the same emptiness waiting for her. 

“Yeah, I did,” Corona responded, her voice thankfully helping to drag Nova away from the road her mind had been stumbling down. She felt the older woman pat her shoulder gently, withdrawing only a second before the elevator gave a soft chime and opened its doors out onto the crew deck. Another light jerk of Corona’s head was all she needed to continue trailing after the woman as they passed a few crewmembers heading down to the barracks, walking along the quiet corridors towards the mess hall, where Corona made a sharp turn and headed straight for Jensen. She looked back just long enough to point to the familiar table near the back of the room, calling, “Go ahead and sit down, lieutenant. I’ll pry us some food from the  _ warden _ .” 

“Am I holding this slop hostage now, Commander?” Mess Sergeant Jensen quipped, looking up from the row of glasses he was cleaning to fix Corona with a fake glare. She only gave a friendly sneer in response, plopping her hands down onto the counter and leaning over it. The picture was utterly comical, and Nova had to stifle a laugh as she passed by and walked over to their usual spot, just barely hearing Corona mention something about how the cook was holding out on the  _ real _ food and instead trying to poison the crew with expired oatmeal… or something. After a few steps away from them, Nova began tuning the conversation out in favor of pulling up her omnitool.   
  
Even with the worry of thinking for too long about the Spectre, there was a painful tug in her heart that demanded Nova check her inbox, just on the off-chance he had finally gotten back to her. And as she pulled out a chair and began sliding down into it, Nova almost slipped to the floor in surprise as she heard the familiar ping of an unread message awaiting her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole section gave me way too much trouble, I've spent the last week on just this and I still don't know if I like it much at all. I was trying to post longer chapters, but given how long this section took me and how I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, I think separating it out from the next chapter will be better in the long run. We've also been preparing for a move here at home, so I've been a little stressed out which is probably affecting my writing. 
> 
> I do have some good news though! Not only will this entire story have two pieces of artwork for it, but the next chapter features a new perspective shift with everyone's favorite snarky turian Spectre :3c. Nihlus will be making a bigger appearance soon, please look forward to it!


	4. Worth the Pain

Nihlus would be the first to admit that, despite unironically referring to the infamous Spectre Saren Arterius as a “friend”, he knew very little about the man other than what Saren himself had offered up. They weren’t exactly close - not in the usual sense one would think friends should be. Saren was a man who always put up barriers, never letting anyone in beyond a certain point, and so it was between them. 

Nihlus had tried to knock down a few of them over the years, sometimes with tact and other times just blatantly headbutting against the kinetics like a charging krogan. All attempts had met with only mild success, if they did at all - but he liked to think he knew Saren better than anyone else in the galaxy, and certainly understood him easier than most. He blamed  _ that _ part on spending a good year or so under the man’s tutelage, giving up his own blood and sweat in his journey to prove himself worthy of the Spectres - and to the utter hardass turian who picked him out of his squad on what had seemed little more than a whim at the time. And he  _ had _ , a fact he was still proud of to this day, a decade later. As well as this, just as his training had been met with progress and eventual success, so too had his efforts to get to know his former mentor a little better… after a great deal of continual prodding and patience. 

So Nihlus liked to think that, despite how distant Saren kept himself from the world, he had grown to know the man as well as could be expected. He surely knew more about the man’s thoughts and habits than any random reporter did, at least. 

It was for this reason that he received such an earth-shattering jolt when his light sleep had been interrupted by the irritating buzz of the doorbell, and his gaze had met the image of a man barely able to stand upright on his own, in the camera feed from just outside his apartment. 

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, voice still a little groggy as he nearly fell to the floor under the Spectre’s weight, Saren all but collapsing on him the moment he palmed the door control and it slid open. The old turian just grumbled a little and shook his head, making no objections to the shoulder Nihlus offered nor the supportive arm wrapping around his upper carapace. He simply hobbled along with Nihlus in silence as the younger Spectre walked them towards the couch, where he awkwardly lowered Saren down. Stepping back after being sure the man wasn’t about to keel over, he tried to jokingly quip, “You look like you got hit by the broadside of a drunk krogan in heavy armor.” 

“That’s about how I feel,” Saren responded, his voice hard and bitter, with an unfamiliar raspy quality that immediately worried Nihlus. The older turian shook his head again, grunting slightly as he leaned back against the sofa’s plush cushioning. Standing close as he was, Nihlus just barely managed to catch a whiff of alcohol on the Spectre’s breath. His nostril plates flared uncomfortably, and he put a good bit more distance between them to escape the lingering odor. 

“Spirits, Saren, have you been drinking?” he asked aloud, already knowing the answer. The indignant growl he heard only confirmed it, and it was Nihlus’ turn to shake his head as he sat on a chair just across from where his former mentor rested. 

“Yesterday. And the day before. Not today.”

“You reek of cheap brandy,” Nihlus said with a scowl, mandibles flaring slightly as his subvocals hummed disapproval and worry. Saren just gave a short sigh, a small pop of his shoulders to indicate a halfhearted shrug. Nihlus shook his head again. “What the hell happened, Saren? You hardly ever drink… certainly not enough to smell like you took a bath in alcohol, at least.”

Saren didn’t respond this time, at least not immediately. Nihlus waited for a moment, expectant as he saw the man’s mandibles twitch a little, but as the silence began to drag on, he quietly sighed and settled back into the armchair, pointedly keeping his gaze on him. 

Like many other things about the man, Nihlus had grown used to long periods of deathly silence when it came to conversing with Saren. The Spectre had always been a man of few words, preferring to let actions speak for him and filling in anything else they couldn’t cover - if he felt like doing so at all. Some would have called Saren standoffish, and perhaps he was at that…  _ No, he definitely is _ , Nihlus corrected himself,  _ but there’s a trick to it _ . Nihlus knew the man well enough by now to understand that he had trouble putting his thoughts and feelings into words. It was part of why he kept himself distant from others; far easier to brush people aside with as few words as needed, than struggle to express himself. Even for a turian, Saren was very… awkward, sometimes, when it came to social interactions. Nihlus had found that out within the first few months of their training together, after having tried to engage the man in conversation multiple times only to be shooed away like an irritating child, or forced to sit for minutes on end awaiting a simple one-word answer to a question. Saren’s subharmonics still sang as clearly as any of their species’, at least, helping the process along as he’d tried to understand the man - and of course, mandible flicks were as easy to read for turians as breathing was. 

Nihlus had to stifle a chuckle at the memory of Saren commenting offhandedly one day, back during those months of training, of how he was unsure whether to envy other races for their lack of subharmonics, or pity them. It was a good memory, one of his first pictures of the Spectre attempting to socialize with him outside of combat training and evaluations. But right now, he felt humor would be unwelcome given the state his former mentor was in. 

Finally, he heard a low keen escape from his friend’s subvocals, and Saren ran a hand over his face in a way Nihlus could only read as regret - an emotion he was utterly unfamiliar with seeing the Spectre show.

“Spirits, do you have.. anything? Coffee,  _ something _ ..” 

“Yeah, hang on. I’ll go get it made,” Nihlus replied, voice quieter now. He stood with a small grunt, still feeling his light sleep dragging him down, so coffee was probably a good idea for the both of them. Saren’s eyes were closed as he continued running a hand along his brow, so as he passed around the sofa, the younger Spectre was able to get a closer look at the man without fear of bothering him. There seemed to be more lines along his hide than usual, an unnaturally vulnerable expression to his face; Nihlus didn’t know what to make of it, only knowing that the picture was frighteningly out of character for the stoic hardass he’d been friends with for over ten years. 

He wasn’t used to seeing Saren looking so utterly  _ shaken _ . Drunk was one thing - they’d certainly had a few nights here and there where they both got too shitfaced to even speak, and while not typical, Nihlus knew that side to the Spectre about as well as he did the usual sober version. Vulnerable, though.. that was new. And it was terrifying. 

He kept his gaze flicking back to the Spectre as he fixed their drinks, though Saren made no movements nor said anything. His arm eventually lowered, head tilting back as he stared out the large bay window across from the sofa, but otherwise remained motionless all through the few minutes it took for their coffee to be ready and Nihlus to return with cups in hand. He passed one to his old friend, mandibles flicking in worry as Saren took it without a word. Once more, they sat in silence for as long as it took to allow their drinks to cool enough so their tongues and throats weren’t scalded upon ingestion.

Finally, he tried to start pushing. “Care to tell me now why you showed up at my door this early in the morning, looking like you’re about to fall over from a stray breeze?” 

There was a lengthy pause, during which Nihlus saw his friend’s mandibles flick irritatedly for a moment only to clamp tight against his jaw. Then, Saren finally spoke, “I’ve been trying to get her out of my head.” 

The statement should have sent him tumbling to the floor in bewilderment, but Nihlus merely sat and stared blankly at his fellow Spectre for a moment longer. Really, the only feeling he held right now was a slightly smug sense of satisfaction, having correctly assumed that the strangely specific questions Saren had asked him a while back were indeed caused by him finding a woman. He’d had plenty of time to be baffled by the prospect a month ago; he had worked through all the feelings of confusion, worry, excitement, and suspicion enough that now, as he sat across from the older turian, Nihlus was thinking only of how to pry further information out of him. A lingering desire to satisfy his curiosity was riding along the back of his need to help a man who was obviously in desperate need of it.

_ Saren Arterius _ needing help. Spirits, today was already shaping up to be an odd one. 

“ _ Her _ ?” he finally prodded, trying not to get too invasive too quickly. Even were Saren not apparently recovering from a bad hangover, Nihlus knew something like this wouldn’t be an easy subject to discuss with him. After all, even  _ he _ would have never expected the old man to ever pursue someone, let alone become this seemingly distraught over them. Hell, for all he knew, the man was in this sorry state due to a breakup. 

Spirits, the thought of Saren even lasting in a relationship to the point of going through a breakup was surreal. 

He heard the man sigh again, quieting for a moment to guzzle down some of the coffee. Saren grimaced, giving him a short glare and saying, “You still can’t fix a decent cup of coffee to save your life, Nihlus.” 

“It’s quick and easy to make the way I do it, Saren. Some of us actually run on that stuff, rather than have it once every few weeks as if it’s some delicacy,” Nihlus responded, allowing a measure of his usual snark to color his words. It had the desired effect, with Saren relaxing slightly - still stiff as a board and looking ready for a fight, but less like he was about to kill someone, at least. Settling back into the armchair and taking a drink of his own coffee, Nihlus continued, “So, who’s this ‘her’?” 

Saren shook his head, leaning forward to set his cup on the small table between them and once more running a hand over his face, letting it travel halfway along his fringe before it fell to his lap as he hunched over. His gaze fell to the floor as he did so, and all Nihlus could go on without seeing his expression was the tone of his subvocals; they hummed with a desperate sort of sadness, strong enough that Nihlus felt as if he too ached in such a way. 

“Nihlus, you’ve… been with women before. In more ways than.. purely.. sexual.” It was a statement more than a question, but Nihlus gave a small sound of affirmation. “Have you ever been so…  _ consumed _ with the thought of one of them? As if you can hardly breathe without them around?” 

It was Nihlus’ turn to fall silent, having to digest the words of his former mentor and think carefully on his response. It was true that he’d dated his fair share of women over the past few years - most didn’t last long nor had ever been very serious, however. In the end, it had just been something he went along with,  _ wanting _ to feel something for them but never experiencing any real sparks outside of the bedroom. Not that Nihlus was against relationships built upon sex, per say, but in the end he had never managed to want as much out of it as his partner had - and so they all eventually ended. He was loathe to admit it, but he was a little jaded over the fact he could count himself a veteran of breakups; nothing could really be done about that now, though. 

“No… I can’t say I have. Not for lack of trying, of course, just..” Nihlus gave a shrug, even if Saren couldn’t see it. “I don’t know, Saren. I know I’ve mentioned to you a few times about how I wanted to eventually.. find someone to settle down with, you know? It’s why I even date at all, despite what the life of a Spectre tends to entail.. just idly searching for ‘the one’. The girl I’ll meet and decide that, hey, I want to spend the rest of my life with her.” 

“... The rest of your life..” 

“Saren?” he asked, eyes fixing on the man’s bowed head once more after hearing the almost timid way in which the Spectre had uttered that phrase. His friend’s hands wrung around each other in an anxious dance, elbows resting against his upper legs as he kept his own gaze on the floor - if he still had his eyes open at all. 

“And how are you supposed to know… know when you’ve.. found that  _ one _ ?” 

Nihlus took a moment to think it over, still a little bit dazed over the fact he was really having a conversation like this with  _ Saren _ , of all people. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn he was dreaming.. but spirits, even his dreams usually didn’t get  _ this _ strange. Seeing the older turian’s head rise just enough for his gaze to come into view, Nihlus gave an awkward cough before slowly responding, “You’re asking the wrong man, Saren. Most people of any, er.. romantically-inclined species seem to agree that when you find someone you want to be with, you just kind of…  _ know _ . As if it’s some instinctual thing that just.. happens? I’ve heard tell that the feeling is like your stomach is constantly overturning, your hands shake and your heart races whenever you’re near them, but I can’t say for sure how true any of that is. As I said, I haven’t exactly found that special woman yet.” 

Saren gave a short sound of acknowledgement… or disbelief, Nihlus wasn’t quite sure. The man’s subvocals hummed with that same heartbreaking keen, his expression heavy and strained. How much further did he dare push, with his old friend looking like that? 

“... So, am I right to assume that you have a woman hidden away somewhere?” His voice was light, an attempt to put the Spectre more at ease and keep him talking. Normally, Saren would have picked up on the ruse immediately and scoffed at him for it, however successful it ended up being - but in his current state, the old turian barely twitched. With no response immediately forthcoming, Nihlus decided to just keep talking until Saren said something. 

“Normally I’d ask if she’s turian, or even asari…” Turian would have been the most obvious assumption for anyone who knew him well enough, as Saren had a habit of going on about  _ turian superiority _ and  _ turian pride _ , though he’d dabbled in asari about as often as Nihlus had. The softer nature of the species had its appeal when compared to the tough hide of their own women, after all - Saren had grudgingly admitted that a good few years ago.

Even so, Nihlus knew it was neither. He continued, “But a while back, you asked me what a  _ human _ acted like when they were interested in someone..” 

At the time, he’d been more than a little worried at the implication. Saren had never exactly shown much interest in sex or even a partner, the former only being sought out when he couldn’t deal with instinctual needs on his own - so the fact he had asked about how to identify flirting in itself had been surprising, but the fact he had been asking about  _ humans _ … a species he hated with enough fervor that he felt no stigma from speaking out against the species’ continuing expansion into the Traverse, nor of blatantly waving around his less-than-pleasant opinion in the faces of human politicians. Hell, Saren had once gotten into a heated argument with Nihlus over the mere mention of the latter having a sexual interest in human women, throwing out such accusations as  _ you’re an embarrassment to our species _ ,  _ what do you even see in such an inferior breed _ , and his personal favorite:  _ of all the things I’ve heard in my life, that has to be one of the most disgusting _ . Given all that, he’d worried over countless scenarios ranging from a case of a girl he’d met or slept with getting too pushy, all the way up to wondering if Saren had raped a human woman. He’d dismissed all of those crazy, spur-of-the-moment thoughts as nothing but anxiety-induced worry, feeling disgusted with himself for even thinking some of it of his old friend, but in the end, Nihlus had remained more than a little curious as to the details surrounding Saren’s sudden interest in human flirting. 

But this… how the tables had turned. He would spare his friend retribution right now - the man clearly looked to be suffering more than enough - but  _ oh _ , would Nihlus gloat on this later. He wasn’t going to let the old man live this down for a while. 

Saren offered up no response once more, and so again, Nihlus continued speaking - picking his words carefully and letting them out slow enough for the older Spectre to digest each one. “So, a human, huh? Can’t imagine what a woman she must be, to have gained your interest.. How did you meet her? A bar?” He paused, seeing a slight twitch of Saren’s mandibles. Had he touched a nerve? Letting out a little chuckle and barely containing a tone of smugness, Nihlus hummed a little before talking. “Had to be a bar, no way you were sober when you met her.. if you were, I doubt she would have gone within fifty yards of you.. ah, no offense.” 

Saren let out a low growl, the sound a familiar indicator that he was annoyed, but not angry. 

“You just, uh… don’t.. come off as the most sociable turian in the Citadel, is all.”

“.... I shot a man in front of her.” 

“You what?!” Nihlus exclaimed, eyes growing wide in surprise. For a moment, he worried his outburst may have made Saren reluctant to continue, but after a brief pause, the older turian sighed and ran a hand along his fringe. 

“She bumped into me in Chora’s, one night. Asked for help. A couple of..” Saren let out a quiet snarl, his mandibles flicking outwards to bare his teeth as he hissed out, “humans.” 

“They were bothering her, harassing her to have a drink with them, dance… I could see she was desperate. I was irritated at her interrupting, of coming near me at all, but when those men came up behind her, I..” 

There was another, longer pause this time, with Saren once more running a hand over his fringe and trailing down to pass across his face. Nihlus could hear his subvocals now roaring with anger, with disgust - and knew it wasn’t directed at this mystery woman of his. He did wonder briefly whether Saren had felt such strong emotion at the time this happened.. or if this was newfound, feelings that had cropped up upon recalling the memory now in the present. 

“The big one grabbed her, she made this… pathetic little sound, like.. like a tiny animal. Frightened.. confused.. spirits, when he started pulling her away I just.. I just reached out and grabbed her, held her in place. She was nothing to me, just one damn human out of a million of her infernal species, but something just..”

“You have a strong sense of justice, Saren.. I’m honestly not surprised you stepped in, considering what it sounds like those bastards were planning to do with her. Even if she was a human, I know you well enough to know your own code wouldn’t have let you just see her carted off…” Nihlus fixed his old friend with a hard stare, subharmonics thrumming with reassurance. Hell, had he been in Saren’s position, he couldn’t have just sat idly by and watched a woman get pulled off to get raped. Spectre or no, people like he and Saren couldn’t stand injustice in the galaxy. 

“So you said you… shot someone? Was it one of those men?”

“Yes.” 

Saren’s voice was cold, containing no hint of emotion - no anger, no guilt, no sympathy. It was almost more frightening than if he’d been furious. There was just a cruel, flat tone to his voice as he spoke the word, and Nihlus had to fight away an uncomfortable shiver. Sometimes he had to be reminded of the fact Saren thought little of killing someone if it served a purpose. 

“He lived, though I wonder sometimes if he even deserved that kindness. I pulled her away from him when he went for a knife, one bullet to the leg and he went down.”

“I assume he tried pulling a blade on you because you were… ah.. being your usual  _ charming _ self?” 

Saren gave no response beyond just a flick of his mandibles. Nihlus didn’t really need a spoken confirmation, however - he could piece together enough to get a general idea of what happened. The younger Spectre had also come across plenty of human males like that before, too - creeps who honed in on any woman alone and vulnerable, trying to get her too drunk to say no or fight back, or flat out attempting an assault in public. He’d fought his fair share of those sort of filths. 

“So what happened after that?” he urged, feeling curious as to how the story continued, as well as believing that telling it to someone would help his friend work through some things. 

“... I could tell she was scared, after that. I honestly thought she would have run from me the moment I opened fire, but she just.. stood there, shaking. I bought her a few drinks, as an… apology, I suppose. Spirits, I don’t know what had gotten into me that night.. I should have pushed her away after those men crawled out like wounded varren, but..” Saren paused, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Nihlus. Maybe I was already too drunk to care. But she stayed with me that night, we.. spoke at length. She listened to me as I told her stories.. spirits, her eyes were so  _ bright _ , so alive with curiosity and.. they still are.”

The pathetic keen returned, and the old Spectre soon leaned back into the sofa and rested a hand over his eyes. Nihlus couldn’t help a faint smile. The way Saren talked about her was unexpectedly gentle.. his tone wavering between exasperated and completely entranced. He wondered whether he’d ever be able to meet this girl, some day - any human who could bring emotions like  _ that _ out of a xenophobic old bastard like Saren had to be one hell of a woman. 

“So you.. took her home?”

“Yes. She was too drunk by the end of the night, could barely stand up straight. In that state, she could have been.. I just thought it would be safer to escort her back to where she was staying, make sure nothing happened and no one bothered her..” 

“You had sex with her?” he pushed, barely able to contain a smug grin when Saren let out a growling confirmation, a hint of embarrassment passing through his subvocals. “Damn, Saren. You really were drunk off your ass, if you ended up falling in bed with a human.” 

“We both were… neither of us should have been so hasty, but.. spirits…”

“So, was I right? Human women are just like asari… even softer, in the places that matter. The species has skin like Thessian silk, and…” Nihlus let out a little chuckle. “Well.. regardless, how did it go? The morning after, I mean.” 

Nihlus wouldn’t have minded hearing every sordid little detail of his friend’s night with this mystery woman, but he could sense Saren withdrawing from the current conversation, little by little. His answers were shorter, his tone becoming more clipped and dismissive - when he wasn’t being overcome by emotion, at least. The younger turian didn’t need to hear his subvocals to pick up on the usual signs. 

“... I..” Saren moved again, pushing away from the back of the sofa and once more drawing his head downwards, leaning over his knees and clasping his hands in front of him with a contemplative sort of motion. He took another long pause before continuing, “... She had scars all over. Where we had joined, it.. her skin was red, almost like she’d been burned.. I applied medigel to her while she slept, tried to.. clean up what I could. She still couldn’t hardly walk when she finally woke up and attempted to get out of bed..” 

_ Damn _ , Nihlus thought, feeling more than a little impressed. It seemed Saren’s “expertise” wasn’t solely limited to combat and espionage. Even now, ten years later, his old friend was still full of surprises. 

Saren fell into a deathly silence after that, his mandibles tightly clamping against the sides of his mouth as he wrung his hands anxiously, before finally leaning his head forward to rest his brow against them. Though the silhouette of regret and guilt before him was unfamiliar, Nihlus still recognized enough signs to know Saren wouldn’t respond well - or at all - to any further questioning down that line of conversation. He shifted in his seat, pulling a leg up and resting the ankle on his opposing knee as he leaned back into the armchair, studying the other turian for a moment, contemplating. It was time to switch tracks. 

“... So, Saren, uh..” he began, intentionally keeping his voice at a calm level and speaking slowly, his tried and true act of an utterly confused turian. He had to struggle to keep his subvocals quiet, but other than that, it was perfect. “You still never… got around to telling me what you came here for. Surely you didn’t come to make a simple courtesy call at this hour of the morning.. while barely sober.” 

All he heard in response was a growl - or rather, more of a grumble, as if Saren hadn’t quite heard him. Nihlus gave him time, though, simply waiting patiently for the older Spectre to get his thoughts in order. He was rewarded for it only a few minutes later, as Saren leaned up a little and unclasped his hands, letting them hang limply in the empty space between his knees. 

“How am I supposed to function like this?” he asked - seemingly more to himself than to Nihlus, though the younger Spectre cocked his head in confusion. Another brief pause in Saren’s words came, punctuated by anxiously flicking mandibles. “She’s only been gone for three.. no, four days now. Not even a week, and yet all I seem capable of doing is drinking myself into a stupor… just so I won’t feel..”

“What do you mean, she’s gone? Did you two break up already..?” 

“No,” Saren responded, giving a slight shake of his head. He ran a knuckle over his brow immediately after, plates shifting in a grimace as he did so. “No, she… visited, recently. For.. for her studies.”

_ Liar _ , Nihlus thought. He easily picked up on the fact his old friend was only giving him half the truth, though it made little difference now. If he wanted to hide his girlfriend a little while longer, then so be it. Nihlus would easily be able to find out more information on his own time, if he really got curious enough. 

“While she was here for that, we… met up again. It’s been nearly a year since we first met, since we…  _ I _ took advantage of her. Fell in bed with a damned human, of all things.”

“So you two finally spent some time together before she had to go home. That’s good, isn’t it?”

“... I don’t know, Nihlus.” Saren gave a heavy sigh. “I don’t know.” 

“What’s not to know? Weren’t you happy to see this girl again? Considering you must have kept in contact for at least a year, she has to mean  _ something _ to you by now.”

“... She means more to me than I think she should.” 

That was something he hadn’t been expecting to hear. Nihlus struggled to keep the surprise out of his subvocals, though he was sure his expression would have betrayed him had Saren been bothering to look at him at all, rather than staring at the floor. A human woman actually meaning something to human-hating Saren Arterius? Spirits, it was more surprising that the old bastard had developed any sort of attachment to anyone, let alone a human. 

The more he heard, the more Nihlus really wanted to meet this girl at some point. He mused on just how willing Saren would be to introduce him, if he asked. 

“Well.. you aren’t exactly the most experienced when it comes to relationships, Saren. Being separated from someone you care about… it is going to hurt, for a while. There isn’t much you can do to get around that. What you can do to make it  _ easier _ , though, is just… you know,  _ talk to her _ . We’re in an age of near-instant communication, even over great distances and across systems. Keeping in touch with friends and partners is relatively simple, outside of the military.”

“I can hardly even think about her without.. feeling as if my entire chest is about to cave in. As often as I’ve been shot over the years, this pain is.. far worse. It’s like no matter what I do, it’s just  _ there _ . Lingering like an irritated scar.”

“And getting drunk off your ass to null it is any better? Come now, Saren, you’ve been through worse things than heartache.” 

“Is that what this is?” Saren asked, finally lifting his gaze to meet with Nihlus’ own. Silver met green as the older turian stared at him in desperation, as if silently begging him for a solution he didn’t have. “This insufferable pain I can’t get rid of?” 

“I don’t see what else it could be. You miss her, and the separation is hard on you, so you’re going through some, uh… emotional pain,” Nihlus responded. He never would have thought he’d ever say those words to someone like Saren, who had always seemed so disinterested in other people - both platonically and romantically - yet here they were. He didn’t really know whether to be excited at this new development, or terrified. How exactly should one feel, finding out their best friend - a man who up until now had been cold, solitary, and ruthless, someone utterly unfit for attachments and relationships - was not only pining after a woman, but had been in contact with her for nearly an entire year? And to top it all off, she was of a species Saren  _ despised _ . 

Perhaps he felt a little bit of both.

Uncrossing his legs, Nihlus leaned forward and took up a position similar to his friend’s, resting his hands upon his knees. Time to change gears slightly once more. 

“Let me ask you something, Saren. You’ll have to forgive me for being a little skeptical of this, uh… whatever you have with her, but I can’t help wondering about some things. She’s human, and you told me you were both drunk when you first had sex… why did you stay in contact with her? I can’t imagine you were exactly  _ happy _ about recent developments, that morning after. Not given how you feel about her species..”

Saren gave a sigh, the sound like a roll of thunder, and his shoulders moved in what barely registered as a shrug. His subvocals registered the confusion before Saren ever spoke, but he continued, “I don’t know. She was the one who wanted to, I… I had just been trying to leave. Leave before I.. said something I’d regret. But she just… she could barely stand, she was in so much pain and had barely woken up, yet she just stood there and… asked me if we could. I still don’t understand why I didn’t say no.” 

“What did you want out of it? Anything?” 

Saren simply shook his head and muttered another noncommittal response. Nihlus bit back a sigh.

“Okay, let me rephrase. What do you want out of this..  _ relationship _ with her that you have now? What do you want from her?”

“Everything.”

Nihlus felt his jaw go a little slack, mandibles spreading outward in what could only be described as the turian equivalent of surprise - his expression betraying his feelings as he still kept his eyes locked on the older Spectre. To his credit, Saren made no comment, instead simply looking away and fixing his gaze to something off on the side. Only the most subtle vibration of his mandibles betrayed the worry he himself was feeling, subvocals humming with that same heartbreaking keen as when they’d first began talking. 

_ Shit. He’s in deeper than I thought. _

Nihlus tried to rein in his own emotions, forcing the mask of a patient, non-judgemental friend back onto his face. There wasn’t any need for surprise or panic, he tried to reason with himself - after all, was it really so unbelievable that Saren could develop such strong feelings towards someone? The man was about as friendly as a wild varren - and had an attitude to match - but he was still  _ just _ a man. Despite coming off as a solitary sort of person, who had shown little desire for friends or family, Nihlus felt it was safe enough to assume even Saren wanted a companion, especially now that he was getting older. Many people, on some base level, desired a partner - someone to be with them through the good and the bad, a source of familiarity and stability in an ever-changing galaxy. That thought was even a basis for certain sorts of businesses, such as the Consort’s practice. 

Even still, Nihlus couldn’t help feeling a little dizzy at the implication. 

“.. Can you, uh.. explain ‘everything’ to me?” was all he managed to say. Saren didn’t look up. 

“I… see her. In my apartment, just… doing the most mundane things. It’s like she’s there in spirit, just… hazy, dreamlike. I see a life I’ve never lived with her, when I close my eyes.. and even sometimes when I’m awake.” The old Spectre shook his head, subharmonics emitting a weak sound of inner pain. Nihlus didn’t respond immediately, sensing that Saren wasn’t quite finished with his train of thought, and though his own mind was reeling from the man’s words, his only reaction was a light flick of his mandibles as he kept his eyes on the other turian. It was still so strange to see a man like Saren looking so…  _ lost _ . Lost and vulnerable. 

Spirits, was he…?

“I haven’t.. talked to her since she left the Citadel. We only exchanged one message, the day she boarded a ship back home..” 

“Why haven’t you talked to her more?”

“Spirits, Nihlus, how  _ can _ I? With this pathetic state I’m in?” Saren lashed out, suddenly rising from his seat and pacing a few steps away, a frustrated growl sounding from his throat. He shook is head, raising a hand to run it over his face only a second later, before finally turning to meet the younger turian’s gaze. Nihlus saw a myriad of emotions present behind those striking silver eyes, but only one seemed to rise to the forefront:  _ desperation _ . As he held Nihlus’ gaze, Saren’s voice calmed slightly, his tone holding more guilt than anger. “When I’m not drunk to the point of immobilization, I can barely stand to think of her for more than a few minutes without..”

“So because you’re in pain from being separated, your solution to it is to just completely avoid the woman entirely?” Nihlus asked, remaining in the armchair but cocking his head to the side and letting his subvocals carry a tone of irritation in them. Saren really didn’t deal well with feelings that went beyond just disinterest or anger, apparently. But this was borderline ridiculous - and he had no qualms of saying so to the man’s face. “Saren, in what universe does that actually work? The more you avoid her, the more painful it gets. For  _ both _ of you, I might add… you’re consumed with your own feelings, but think about how this must be affecting her. What is she supposed to think, with you going days without contacting her?”

This gave the other turian pause, his mandibles flicking irritatedly as an internal battle seemed to play behind his gaze. Brow plates lowered, his jaw tightened, and Nihlus noted the shuddering intake of breath that Saren tried to hide as he stood there, seemingly rooted to the spot and unsure whether to rebuke the younger turian’s words with a blind rage, or slump to the floor in defeat. At least, that’s how it appeared from where Nihlus was sitting. But as the other Spectre finally looked away, almost guiltily, he knew he’d hit a chord. 

“She’s… dealt with it before. When I’ve been on assignments..”

“That was then, Saren. Think of the  _ now _ . How do you think she’s feeling right now, with so little contact with you so soon after she had to return home? If I was in her position, I’d be upset and worried.”

Saren didn’t respond this time, only giving a sort of contemplative hum that rumbled through the empty space between them like a promise of thunder. Not wanting to waste the platform, Nihlus took a moment to think over his next few words before speaking again.

“As I told you, the pain of being away from each other isn’t going to go away entirely. But staying in contact, speaking with each other regularly.. hell, even just a short mail here and there would do wonders to keep you both sane. So  _ talk _ to her, Saren. As often as you can stand to, or as often as she wants. But don’t try to run from her out of some idiotic belief that it will lessen the pain.” He waited until Saren’s eyes drifted back to him before adding, “Running away from a battle isn’t like you at all, Saren. Even I know that.”

“... I feel more confident in actual combat. At least then I know what to do, know how to fight, where to point my weapon. But this… I don’t understand any of this.”

“Will you let something as mundane as that ruin a good thing? You may not have told me much about her in specific, but spirits, Saren, even I can see how good this woman is for you. And how much you care about her, despite all the reservations you still seem to have,” Nihlus pushed, unwilling to let his friend slip into a state of despair or apathy over the situation. Despite his own worries regarding this relationship the Spectre had unwittingly created - and especially about how the hell Saren’s speciesism against humans would affect the woman he was apparently obsessing over - Nihlus wasn’t about to watch Saren fuck up one of the better things he’d come to possess in his life. 

_ You’ve finally fallen in love and you can’t even realize it _ , he thought, awaiting the man’s next response with more than a little anxiety. He vaguely wondered about explaining all the intricacies of the feeling to Saren, but decided against it. Nihlus didn’t feel himself educated enough in the subject to really make much sense or be helpful - after all, he was still looking for his own special woman - but even if he was, the younger turian doubted he would have spoken of it to Saren anyway.   
  
This was something he had to work through on his own time. Nihlus simply vowed to help the process along as best he could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, Nihlus was interesting to write - but I'm pretty satisfied with his characterization, and hope that this little foray into his head will help me later once I start writing for Mass Effect 1! Hope everyone enjoyed Saren getting dragged over hot coals <3


	5. So Simple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone for all the support I've been given up till now. Sometimes, when it gets hard to write through a section or I get to a point where I'm not sure how to proceed, I just think of all the encouragement and kind words from my readers, and it helps me push through. So thank you all for being here, it means a lot to me <3 
> 
> Now please enjoy something I've been so anxious to finally write out!

When Saren finally left Nihlus’ apartment two hours later, he felt a little more clear headed. The coffee had helped sober him up, and the conversation had finished the process, so now as he made his way back along the pristine white walkways of the Presidium, he no longer stumbled and could finally think more clearly. 

What Nihlus had said to him made sense. All of it, but especially the discussion regarding how this separation was affecting both he and Nova alike, not just himself. Somehow, in his drunken stupors, he’d forgotten to even consider how his  _ amatra _ must be feeling - too consumed was he with dulling his own pain, that he hadn’t even stopped to think about her own. Spirits, if he had spent the last few days getting himself shitfaced just to deal with it, how much better did he expect her to cope? He had to hope she was simply throwing herself into work back on her Alliance vessel… the guilt from thinking about the alternatives would be too much for him to handle. 

But Nihlus was right; running from this situation, from  _ her _ , would only make everything worse for the both of them. Despite his heart pounding against his ribs, his hands shaking so hard he had to clench them into fists just to control it, and his mouth feeling dry, Saren knew that he had to stand and face this. If he just thought of it like any other battle, perhaps it would be easier… because that was what this felt like, sometimes. A battle he never asked for, had not prepared for, didn’t understand and couldn’t control. It was terrifying, more so than anything else he had ever faced in his long years of service as a Spectre. But as he finally stepped into the elevator leading up to his own apartment not a half hour later, Saren realized that she must be feeling the same way regarding this entire situation. That thought spurred his need to protect her, and he clung to that desire like a lifeline. 

The chronometer on the wall read 0940 when he stepped inside. As before, he was nearly suffocated by a sense of loss - the very air within the apartment feeling stifling to him, bringing with it that same sense of loneliness that had drove him to drown in a bottle. But Saren merely glared around the empty space, as if defying its hold on him. He ignored the countless empty bottles lined along the floorspace by his chair, the counters and tables, and went straight up to his bedroom. He easily could have contacted her by way of omnitool, but Saren felt a sudden need to fight back against the fears that had driven him out of the room.. if not for his own sanity, then for the sake of that damnable woman. And so even as his subvocals spilled a cry of longing as afterthoughts of her scent met his nostrils, Saren made his way across the room with long strides, heading around the side of his desk and seating himself before it. 

There was no guarantee she would be able to respond immediately, but that didn’t stop Saren from turning on the terminal. He navigated to her ID, spending the next few minutes typing out a message - having to pause now and then to think, to try figuring out what he wanted.. no, what he  _ needed _ to say to her. As her lingering scent began to consume him the longer he sat in the bedroom, Saren felt his control slipping again - that same ache surfacing with renewed ferocity, threatening to tear him apart at the seams. But he just clenched his jaw and focused, finally feeling satisfied enough to send the message shooting off through the comm buoys scattered all around the galaxy, linking distant solar systems to each other through the vast web of the extranet. 

Now he could only wait. Tempting whispers from his subconscious begged for another bottle of brandy, but Saren shook the thought from his mind, unwilling to fall back into that endless cycle of running away. She deserved better than that, and while he was far from a perfect partner, he’d try his damndest to at least be a good one. 

It was funny, he thought, in a disturbing sort of way.  _ When did I start thinking of her as my mate? _

* * *

 

_ I want to talk to you again. _

The words were ringing in her head long after she’d been forced to close out her omnitool, quickly stuffing it away in her pocket as she’d seen Corona approaching from the corner of her eye. But even so, Nova couldn’t stop thinking of Saren’s message… feeling worry and relief over it in equal measures. 

She’d thankfully not drawn her cousin’s attention just a few moments prior, after having nearly fallen out of her chair entirely upon seeing the flashing indicator of a new message awaiting her. Corona had been too absorbed in her back-and-forth banter with the mess sergeant to pay her much mind. It had given Nova enough time to read over the contents, but not enough for her to respond immediately. So now, on top of continuing to digest the words and wondering about whether Saren was feeling okay, she was also forced to wait on giving a response - and the fact of it ate away at her nerves, causing slight shaking in her hands and a rapid thumping of her heart against her ribcage. 

“You feeling okay, lieutenant?” Corona asked, her voice breaking through the buzzing anxiety and forcing Nova’s eyes upwards to meet with the woman’s own. 

“Yeah,” was her automatic response, though she couldn’t help wincing at the way her voice cracked slightly. Corona picked up on it, too, and her brow knitted in worry. Trying to backpedal and assuage any concerns, Nova continued, “I-I mean, j-just… still tired. I-I’m sorry, ma’am. I guess I’m… j-just a little out of practice.” 

“Out of practice for what, just talking with your family?” Nova’s shoulders relaxed a little as she heard the joking tone of the woman’s voice, and as Corona gave a small smile, she returned it with relief. The older Shepard pushed a plate towards her a little more, giving a subtle nod down to it as if to say “eat up”, before taking utensils in hand and digging into her own with a gusto that gave off the impression she hadn’t eaten in a good while. At a slight grumble from her stomach, Nova realized she hadn’t either. 

They ate in silence for a while, each of them focusing on the warm foods that wouldn’t taste quite as good once cooled down. The meal was simple; just some mashed potatoes made from instant-mix, a small patty of processed beef, some vegetables, and a roll that was about as hard as a rock - and didn’t taste much better. Even so, the food went down fine, and Nova quickly ate through the larger portions, grateful to have a meal that consisted of more than a few energy bars and juice. Yet even as she moved on to slowly chew through the steamed carrots, Nova couldn’t help recalling her first day back with Saren.. the food that day could have been terrible, and she still would have remembered their morning together with fondness. It still baffled her how simple domestic things, like sharing a meal together, could mean so much. Thinking of him now, she was reminded all too cruelly of the message sitting unanswered in her mail.. and of the pain tearing its way through her chest. 

“So, how was the program? Learn anything new and exciting?” Corona asked, still chewing through the last of her hamburger steak and fixing Nova with a stare. The younger Shepard felt a flush crawl up her neck, but she sat down her fork as she gave a brief overview of her time with the Jannuvus Program. 

Corona listened quietly as she spoke, asking questions here and there but otherwise allowing her to have the floor. Nova took an odd sort of comfort in retelling the events of the past week, enjoying the way her cousin engaged with her and seemed genuinely interested in learning all about the various types of biotics each of the trainees had focused on. The woman’s eyes danced with amusement when she recounted the conversations everyone had during downtime, the little competitions that sprung up in the recreation rooms, such as one of the asari and the salarian both playing what she could only have described as a sort of biotic version of air hockey. But it was the look of  _ pride _ she saw in her cousin’s expression that really got to her, as Nova continued on and went over the various training sessions they had run through. Corona’s smile was nearly blinding when Nova finally spoke of the very last day of the program, of the resounding victory they had all achieved - with her, Nirife, and Ennius at the head. Nova couldn’t quite stop herself from grinning as well, remembering clearly just how amazing it had felt when they had all unleashed a huge biotic push against the instructors; the cheers from them all had been deafening, and her head had been spinning with equal parts excitement and adrenaline as Ennius had lifted her up, with Nirife nearly jumping for joy beside them. 

She’d have to try contacting the both of them soon. The three of them had become such good friends over that brief period of time, and the last thing Nova wanted was to lose touch with them forever. 

“Sounds like you made the right decision, going up there. I’m almost upset that I couldn’t see you in action, Nova. It sounds like you were a hell of an asset to the entire group.” The woman’s voice carried a gentle timbre to it, the corners of her eyes crinkling with the weight of her smile as she leaned over the table and gave Nova’s hair a light ruffle. “I’m proud of you, Nova. And I hope to see that same sort of dedication once we start getting you prepared for field missions.” 

“I-I’m.. a little excited to start those, m-ma’am. Working with a g-group like I did in the Jannuvus Program, it… it was just.. a-amazing, in a way. To  _ feel _ how you’re melding with the others, how e-each of you start predicting the other’s actions and.. and planning how to follow up almost immediately, before anyone even makes a move..”

“It does have a certain charm to it, yeah. But that’s how it should be. At the end of the day, you want people you can rely on, people you know will have your back no matter how bad things get on the battlefield. It makes it easier for all of you to come out alive on the other side..” 

Nova looked up, hearing how the woman’s voice quieted near the end. Corona’s eyes had a faraway look to them, having shifted to stare off to the side blankly for a moment. She looked to be deep in thought; her jaw was tighter, small muscles in her neck visibly clenching as her lips thinned and her long lashes shaded over her lavender gaze. But not even a few seconds later, she was looking back up to Nova with another smile. It was a little jarring, and for a brief moment Nova thought to ask if she had said something wrong - but as Corona leaned back in her chair and propped a leg up to rest it on her knee, she decided against doing so. 

“So, you said the program had a couple days of free time in the middle of the week? Did you go out and spend them with your  _ boyfriend _ , lieutenant?” Corona asked, the corners of her mouth curling in an impish grin. It was a good thing Nova had sat down her fork a good while ago, for it likely would have clattered to the floor with the way she nearly jumped in her seat. Sparing only a quick glance up to the commander before fixedly staring down at her mostly-empty plate, Nova saw the grin grow all the larger. 

“W-What do you-”

“Don’t be coy, Nova. You’re glowing way too much to have  _ not _ been with a guy during your week away. Figuratively speaking, I mean. About the glowing. If you were actually glowing I’d be worried who pissed you off, because usually a glowing biotic is a sign someone’s about to get thrown across a crate.”

“I-I don’t… I-I, um..” Nova sputtered for a moment, still trying to think of some sort of denial before once again meeting her cousin’s gaze and seeing just how futile it was. Reacting the way she was would do nothing other than solidify the woman’s assumption, and she wasn’t exactly able to stop the heavy flush from spreading along her cheeks. The outline of her omnitool suddenly felt very noticeable against her hip, as if it was weighing down through the fabric of her pants pocket. Guiltily, Nova bowed her head and tried to make herself as small as possible as she uttered a meek apology. 

“Nothing to be sorry about, kid. I’m just a little surprised, is all… though not entirely unhappy about it. Amazed you managed to keep a relationship going while in the Alliance.. the military is kind of notorious for being hard on marriages and things like that, after all.” Corona smiled, a gentle reassurance of her neutrality to the revelation, and carefully slid her plate to the side. After reaching out to pick up her drink and take a sip from it, she fixed Nova with an easy stare. “So? Tell me about him.” 

What was there to tell? Nova bit her lip, realizing that there was actually quite a lot she could say on the subject but very little she could actually speak to someone else about. Though he had never explicitly said so, she had always felt like Saren wanted to keep what they had relatively private.. for now, at least. Given his position as a Spectre, she could understand the need for secrecy, and in a way, she was even thankful for the fact; their story felt too personal, something that should mostly remain between them alone.. yet here she was, put on the spot and having to figure out what she could and couldn’t talk about. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Corona - quite the opposite, despite having only known each other for a few months - but not knowing what Saren wanted made public and what he wanted to keep quiet made thinking of a satisfactory answer rather difficult. 

With the woman’s eyes still anticipatingly waiting for her, Nova gave a quiet sigh and began, “He’s.. used to, um.. b-being on his own most of the time. I-I mean, his job usually has him working alone, and.. a-and he likes it that way, s-so I.. I guess the separation isn’t as hard on him as.. a-as it would be for, um… others..”

“That’s… good, I guess? Just hope he isn’t such a loner that he doesn’t pay any attention to you. What does he do for a living?” 

“U-Um… p-private.. investigations, s-sort of? He doesn’t.. talk much about work,” she lied, hoping Corona couldn’t see through her deception. It wasn’t exactly a false statement - as a Spectre, one of Saren’s duties  _ was _ to investigate potential threats to galactic peace and stability, after all. Thankfully, Corona didn’t look as if she was disbelieving - and if she did think she was lying, the woman didn’t outwardly show it or make any mention of the fact. 

“Is he running his own business, or part of C-Sec?” Corona blinked, making a small little sound of what Nova could only assume was surprise, then added, “Is he human, or..?” 

“U-Um.. n-no, he’s.. um..”

“Turian?” she finished with a smile. Nova gave a shy nod in affirmation, feeling the flush starting to reach over to her ears. The older Shepard merely chuckled, mumbling something she didn’t catch before speaking to her again. “How long have you two been dating? Where’d you meet? Come on, Nova, spill all the beans, you’ve got me interested now.” 

“I-I… u-um..” Nova’s mind raced, trying to figure out where to start.  _ How _ to start. Despite knowing Corona was a very open-minded and non-judgemental sort of person, she still couldn’t quite feel comfortable with the idea of telling her the exact details of how she and Saren had first started this odd relationship. Especially the part about how he’d shot a man who had been harassing her.. The memory in itself was equal parts terrifying and comforting, vividly reminding her both of Saren’s ruthless nature, as well as how safe he felt to her - how protective he could be. 

She must have been making a strange face, for when Nova glanced up again, she noticed Corona leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“He… w-we met a y-year ago, in.. um. I-In a bar,” she began, starting out with a bit of truth before moving into the lie. She could only hope the commander thought her flush was still from thinking of Saren, rather than because she was withholding information. “He, um.. w-we were both at the counter at the same time, a-and um.. I-I forgot what it was that attracted his attention, I-I think I.. bumped into him by accident. B-But we basically just.. started talking, and drinking together.. He told me a lot of stories, about some of his work, where he’d been, what he’d seen.. h-he, um.. t-travels a lot. And I like to hear about other planets, about.. um.. s-space, so..”

“So you two hit it off quickly. Cute,” Corona said, her voice a little softer now - almost wistful. The grin had morphed into a genuinely interested smile, and she gave a small little wave of her fingers as she rested her chin on the palm of her hand, urging Nova to continue. Gods, Nova hated lying to her like this.. even if she was sprinkling a lot of truth into it and merely changing around a few circumstances, it didn’t sit well with her. 

But what else could she do? She didn’t want to betray Saren’s trust. 

“He, um.. w-we.. s-spent the.. the, u-um..” Her flush deepened, and she tried to quickly move away from the topic before she spontaneously combusted from the heat in her cheeks. Corona had other ideas, however.

“And here I was thinking you were still a virgin, Nova,” she said, keeping her voice low so that the mess sergeant wouldn’t pick up on it, even if they were sitting a good deal away from the counter where he was still idly cleaning up dishes. Nova bit her lip, looking down again and being uncomfortably reminded of how much older her cousin was - how much more of life she’d experienced. Had she never met Saren that night, Nova was sure she still would have been a virgin… possibly for years past what many would have considered acceptable. Military life wouldn’t exactly have given her a whole lot of free time to date anyone, after all. Especially not turians.

She wasn’t about to mention how Saren had taken her virginity that first night together, though. The event was not only too personal to her - something she wanted to keep just between them - but just the thought of talking about it was sending her into a darker shade of red. 

“Hope he wasn’t too rough with you,” Corona was saying, breaking Nova out of her brief reverie. “As far as I heard from Avitus, turians tend to go a little rougher during sex unless you specifically remind them how, uh.. squishy you are. Something about mating between males and females of the species being more..  _ violent _ , than what us or the asari may be used to.”

“He… h-he got a little rough, b-but.. but it was okay. I-I.. um.. e-enjoyed it, a-and he started out slow, s-so.. um..” 

“Good. I’d need to have a few words with this guy otherwise.”

Nova couldn’t help but smile, hearing the protective overtone in the woman’s words. It was a subtle reminder that, despite only having known of their familial connection for a few months, Corona was still her cousin.. no, at this point she could be considered more of a sisterly figure. A kind, tough, and caring older sister. 

She’d always wanted a sister. If that night on Mindoir had never happened, maybe… Nova shook the thought from her mind. She wasn’t about to go down that road, not when she was already anxious and in the spotlight of her cousin’s inquiries. 

Though as she continued answering Corona - with varying degrees of pauses and stuttering - Nova still couldn’t help thinking back to the one  _ good _ thing that had come out of that slaver raid. The memory of her rescuer had been fuzzy for a long time, merely bits and pieces scattered through her subconscious like shards of a broken mirror. But over the last few days, the haze had started to lift, the pieces realigned to show more and more of the puzzle, until finally she was able to clearly recall that long night in near-perfect detail. And despite the remnants of pain - of the fear she’d felt that night - coloring through the hours leading up to that one moment, Nova refused to forget again. 

Her world had been colored in the charred black of smoke and the blood-red tint of flames, that night. She recalled her ears ringing so painfully with the echoes of ricocheting gunfire, the noise surrounding her on all sides and almost drowning out the screams of her fellow colonists - of people she had known her entire life. The shouts of terror had followed her frantic escape from the ventilation shaft leading out to the exterior wall of the small building she had called home, dogging her heels as she ran from bush to bush, corner to corner, keeping herself to the shadows and never even stopping to see if anyone was chasing her - or trying to follow her path of escape. Nova remembered feeling her lungs burning, breathing becoming harder the more she sprinted - the acrid stench of blood and burning flesh seeping into her very skin, barely giving her air enough to keep going. When she’d finally dodged into the large warehouse on the far side of the colony, she’d been nearly gasping for the clean air within. 

Mom had told her to run, but Nova didn’t think she could have any more. Her short legs wobbled as she’d picked her way through the piles of crates and boxes that shot skyward towards the ceiling like a miniature city, finally coming into a small clearing at the very back of the building. 

_ You have to run _ , mom had shouted, as she’d shoved her into the ventilation shaft and hastily blocked it with a dresser.  _ Get as far away from here as you can. _ But she hadn’t known where to run to, or even if she could have made it out of the colony and into the surrounding forests. So Nova had hid, buried herself in a dark corner off to the side of that little cleared area, and kept herself as stiff against a large crate as she could. The noises from outside had been lessened, filtering in through the walls of the warehouse - but it had been overbearing enough that Nova remembered how badly she’d wanted to block them out, to escape from the chaos and the screaming. But even then, as a mere eight year old child, Nova had known she had to hear, had to  _ listen _ .

And so she had stayed there. Even now, Nova couldn’t have guessed how many hours had passed since the batarians landed and started the raid. But for a long time, she had remained hiding against the crate, staring up at the piles forming walls on all sides of her but one - never moving except when she had to pee. A bathroom had been made in a far corner of the warehouse, a place she could slip into easily from her makeshift fortress and relieve herself in, and each time she was forced to make the crawl over to it, Nova tried not to think about how gross it was. She’d held back tears during those long hours, feeling like a prisoner in her own skin - small, shallow cuts ran along her arms and knees from where she’d crawled through bushes and garden hedges, bruises discolored the palms of her hands and her lower legs, and dirt was caked all along every inch of exposed skin from where she’d fallen into the mud numerous times during her frantic escape. And along with it all, sweat had trickled down across her brow - a byproduct of running past so much fire, and then of having to stay stiff and alert for so long. 

The hellish sounds from the world outside her little corner had slowly receded, until they had finally died off completely. It was only then that Nova had let herself shed tears, hating the feeling of the salty liquid streaking across her dirty cheeks and caking them in one more layer of filth. In that deathly silence, she had thought many times of calling for her mother or father, but she never did. Somehow, she knew there would have been no answer. 

It felt as if days had passed before she’d finally been roused from a light, drifting sleep, hearing the distant sound of gunfire. The sharp  _ tatatat _ had become all too familiar over the course of the raid, and it instantly had her stiffening against the crate, frantically scrambling back as far as she could into her corner. The noise lasted only a moment, but afterwards she heard what vaguely sounded like voices - but they were too far away, too diluted by the city of boxes to make any sense to her. Nova recalled how her heart had sped up during that brief few seconds, slamming against her chest so hard she had feared it would burst clean out.

That’s when she’d heard it. Unfamiliar, heavy footsteps - a distinct sort of click that didn’t match up to the sound she was used to from humans, or even the batarians who had attacked them. They had been faint, at first, but slowly grew louder, closer - until finally, she heard someone moving into the little space just beyond her fortress. They had paused, then, and it was only now, as an adult, that Nova understood it as them having been scoping out the area. But at that time, being nothing more than a sheltered, scared little girl, Nova had only been able to wait in terrified silence - hardly even daring to breathe. But curiosity - or fear, she couldn’t even begin to guess - had forced her to carefully edge towards the corner of the largest crate, her eyes peeking around it to investigate. All she had caught was a flash of silver, a brief image of a gun held in a taloned hand, before the figure had turned away as if to leave. 

And then she’d stupidly fallen against the metal of her hideaway, her tired legs giving away under her as she’d kept herself in an uncomfortable crouch. Despite how tiny she had been at the time, her body had hit the crate with enough force to cause a small thump, which immediately drew the stranger’s attention. The whir of a gun had sounded, slicing through the relative silence that had been present until her mistake, and it was then that Nova had finally heard her first turian voice. The metallic flanging had echoed within the confines of that enclosed space, a terrifyingly authoritative baritone saying, “Hiding won’t do you any good.”

At first, she had scrambled back, trying to work herself as far into the dark corner as she could - momentarily forgetting to remain as quiet and careful as she was able. It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway, had the man standing on the other side of her fortress been a remaining batarian slaver - one sound was more than enough to alert a trained gunman, and no amount of silence afterwards would have erased that. 

“I suggest you show yourself before I lose my patience. The next round will be going straight through the crate,” the same voice had said, the tone lowering dangerously and enough so that, even as scared and shaken as she was, Nova had understood the threat. And when she finally emerged from her dark hiding spot a moment later, Nova had faced down the barrel of a gun. But rather than a batarian, as her child self had been expecting - not having understood the subtle differences in the flanging of batarian versus turian voices - Nova’s eyes had travelled over distinctly avian features. Silver eyes had glared down at her, cold and unfeeling - a gaze that pierced through her even to this day. But at that moment, she had seen only salvation. 

Saren Arterius. Her rescuer, her  _ savior _ … and now her lover, so many years later. Fate was strange like that, sometimes. 

Would he ever remember her? That night had been hell for her, but to him it likely had been nothing more than a routine mission. But when Nova thought back to the warmth of his hand upon her back, feeling her tears stifling under the soothing touch, her heart clenched tightly with.. something. Hope, perhaps? Hope that one day, he would remember the part he played in her life before all of this - before they had ever joined, before he had ever looked at her with such a gentle expression. Would he ever stop one day, just as she had, and recall the shivering little girl he’d held in his arms? 

She could only hope. But even without knowing of the part he played in deciding her fate after that nightmare, Saren was still every bit the same protector as he had been to her back then on Mindoir. And as she thought of it, Nova realized she could be satisfied with that.

“So you spent those two free days with him. What did you guys do?” 

Corona’s voice finally had her attention focusing completely on the present again, as Nova met the woman’s gaze. Her eyes always had a habit of appearing nearly white in the brighter lighting present in the mess hall; Nova couldn’t help finding them beautiful, nor deny how much the strength within them mirrored that of Saren’s own. She was almost jealous of the similarity. 

“He.. took me out to dinner. Er, w-well it was.. m-more like breakfast. I hadn’t known he’d be on the C-Citadel during my week at the program, so he.. k-kind of ambushed me that first morning, leaving me a message to meet him outside. Then he just.. led us to this cute little levo-dextro restaurant, and we… ate together.” 

“Heh. Least he knows how to take a girl out on a date,” Corona replied, reaching for her glass and draining the last of her drink. “Reminds me of the times Avitus and I would eat out in the afternoon, just people-watching.” 

“It was nice… I-I felt a little.. out of place, too, um.. underdressed for such a fancy place, but.. being with him again after so long, I.. I-I was so..” Nova couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips, even as tears threatened to spill from her eyes as the familiar ache returned in full force. “It was like a dream come true. Between his work, and me being in the Alliance, I… I didn’t think I’d see him again, in person, for a long time..”

“... I almost feel jealous of this guy.” Nova looked up at her cousin in confusion, cocking her head a little to the side. Corona’s smile looked faint, but her eyes still shone with the same calm, gentle gaze. The older woman idly fiddled around with her abandoned utensils for a moment, brow knitting slightly before she put the silverware down again and said, “The way you talk about him is almost..  _ reverent _ . Like he’s the only thing you can think about.. like he’s the most important person in your life. But I guess that’s what I get, for not having found you earlier.” 

“I… o-oh.. I-I’m.. I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean..” Nova started, her shoulders slumping with guilt. Did she really sound like that when she spoke about the Spectre? She felt insensitive, as she chewed over the woman’s words. The forlorn way her cousin had said that didn’t exactly help stem the tide of emotions she was feeling, after the recollection of that first meeting with Saren coupled with the heartache of being apart from him. Nova had to blink back tears, hoping her eyes didn’t look as watery as they felt. 

But Corona soon waved her worries off almost immediately, leaning back in the chair and giving a big smile that forced her eyes closed and crinkled the skin around them. When she next opened them, the expression didn’t fade. 

“Easy, lieutenant. I know our bond will be just as strong as the one you have with this turian of yours, some day. We’re family, after all, and I plan to keep us serving together for as long as I’m able. And even if we get split up and assigned separate postings, I’ll still bug the hell out of you on a daily basis,” Corona said with a wink, giving a small snorting sort of giggle when Nova flushed in embarrassment. It died off within a few seconds, though, and her gaze softened a little as she relaxed her posture. “But I’m happy for you, you know? You’re just so in love, it’s.. adorable. Makes you light up like the sun.” 

“I.. I-I’m what?” 

“Come on, Nova. You haven’t even realized it?” Corona’s voice was light hearted, but Nova was suddenly feeling a little dizzy as that one word echoed in her mind. When her cousin continued speaking, the lightheaded sensation only worsened. “I mean, I haven’t had a lot of experience with romance, but even I can tell when someone’s in love - especially when they wear their emotions on their sleeve like you do.” 

“I.. b-but..” 

“You’re  _ in love with him _ , kid. Hopelessly, I might add - if that dreamy expression of yours when you talk about him is any indication.”

Nova fell silent, at that. Words jumbled in her mind, none of them making any sense but all seeming desperate to get out - yet her throat had closed up, killing off every sound before it ever formed. She lowered her eyes from those of her cousin, blankly staring at her empty plate until soon, the world seemed to blur around her and she sunk into herself. 

It sounded so simple, and  _ was _ , yet she was reeling from the realization. Corona wasn’t wrong, and as she shut herself out from the real world for a moment, Nova thought back over every interaction she’d ever had with the Spectre - from the moment they met again at Chora’s, up until that painful goodbye not even four days ago. She thought of the way her heart had always seemed to stop and sputter for a moment, whenever he looked at her with that gentle, almost unfamiliar gaze; of the way his touch seemed to ignite a fire along her skin, trailing after his talons as they ghosted across her; of the way she had almost cried in joy to see him again, that first day away from the Jannuvus Program, had run into his arms and felt him return the embrace - not only then, but every time after as well. His smile had pierced her heart so many times that it was a wonder she’d ever been questioning the emotions he’d caused within her. Just thinking of it now had a single tear pushing against her lowered lashes, struggling to escape. More than anything else, though, she thought back to that night after he had taken her to his ship.. of the way he had stood and laid himself bare to her, almost trying to drive her away yet at the same time, seeming to draw her even closer. Her heart had been beating so loudly in her ears that she still didn’t understand how he hadn’t heard it, but as he’d held her closer, the rapid pace was soothed. 

He had been more gentle with her that night than any other before or after. Rather than the frantic tangling and twining that their intercourse usually entailed, Saren had held her with a tenderness so unlike him, his hands gliding along every inch of her body as she had traced over the familiar ridges and lines of his hide. A word came to mind, as she thought on the memory, one Corona had used not even a moment before.

_ Reverent _ . That night, they had both worshipped each other like only lovers could. 

The unnameable feeling she’d experienced as he’d held her tightly against him, as they had gazed at each other with passion, with  _ desperation _ , made sense now. The painful ache in her chest finally had a name, finally could be called what she must have always known it was subconsciously, but had been too afraid to think.

She loved Saren. 

Deeply, maddeningly so to the point she felt almost suffocated by the emotion; what else could explain the way he sent her mind into shambles just from his presence, or the absolute sense of  _ safety _ she felt with him, despite knowing the sort of ruthless nature he carried? Nova felt almost stupid to have not realized it sooner. A simple crush surely couldn’t ever feel as terribly painful and beautiful as this. 

But knowing was only half the process. The real question now was: how did she proceed from here?

* * * * *

The conversation had went on for a little longer after Nova’s realization, though Corona seemed to sense the topic of Saren - or “Servius”, as Nova had called him when asked - was something she should steer away from for a bit. So instead, they had talked more about the biotic program, as well as the friendships Nova had formed with Nirife and Ennius, until finally the commander had been called up to the bridge for some briefing from Arcturus. All in all, an hour had passed since they had first sat down to eat together, and while Nova was a little disappointed in their conversation ending so abruptly, she couldn’t help being thankful for a chance to finally respond to Saren’s message. The moment Corona disappeared through the corridor, Nova reached down into her pocket and withdrew her omnitool, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she opened up her mail again.

_ I’m so sorry I couldn’t respond sooner _ , she began typing, biting her lip unconsciously. Her heart was pounding so fast, and she had no idea whether it was just from the anxiety of only now being able to reply to him, or because of the feeling she was now understanding. Perhaps a little of both.

_ The commander wanted to catch up this morning, so I’ve been with her in the mess hall and couldn’t have any time to until now. Are you okay, Saren? I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you as much since yesterday, things have been hectic. But I’d really lov- _

Nova deleted the word before she ever finished typing it, feeling a flush along her cheeks. 

_ But I’d really like to talk to you again too. I should be free for most of the day. Corona gave me the day off to get settled back in, and since we’re drydocked on Elysium, there isn’t a lot to do anyway. Are you still on the Citadel? Did you want to sync up for a call? I’m so sorry, again. I hate that I couldn’t get to you until now.  _

_ I’ll wait for you, Saren. Hopefully talk to you soon. _

With that done, all Nova could do was wait - and in the meantime, try to find something to do. But as soon as she slipped out of her chair and made the few steps towards the mess hall’s exit, a familiar beep sounded from her omnitool and had a new wave of anxiety hitting her. Detouring from her path to the elevator, Nova instead charted a new course back towards her shared cabin, returning the device to her hand and checking the incoming message while she walked. Her flush from a moment ago deepened as she read over the contents, and that same aching in her chest hurt all the sweeter. There was only one line, yet somehow that was all she needed. 

_ Get somewhere private so we can sync up for a vidcall. _

Nova sped up her pace, all but running back to her room as her stomach butterflies returned and the anxiety morphed into excitement. Even if it was only a vidcall, Nova would be happy just to see him again - just to hear his voice.  
  
Gods, how she needed to hear his voice.


	6. Longing

Seeing her visage overtaking his holoscreen had Saren’s mind going blank. 

Spirits, it had only been four days, yet he felt as if he hadn’t seen the woman in an eternity. Her eyes pierced through the gloom in her cabin, capturing him so alarmingly quickly that for a moment, Saren forgot to breathe. But when he did, it was sharp and shuddering - a testament to how relieving it was to look upon his infuriatingly beautiful  _ amatra _ . And as she smiled that terrible, chest-crushing smile, Saren couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward and running a hand over his eyes, hearing the pathetic keen returning to spill forth from his subvocals. 

“Saren? Are you okay?” she asked, her tone heavy with worry. It was almost too painful to look at her, but Saren did so anyway, fixing his gaze on the human he had come to obsess over. A small outward flick of his mandibles had her expression softening, and he allowed his voice to carry a soothing timbre to it as he responded.

“Better, now that you’re here.” He couldn’t help the wane smile as he saw her cheeks darken with a flush. “Just working through a headache.”

“I-I’m sorry.. I wish I could-” Nova began, but almost immediately her words died off, and those sinfully soft lips closed. Saren cocked his head at her, curious, but it took only a second longer to figure out a general idea of what she had been about to say. 

He smiled again, subvocals changing from a longing keen to a sort of rumble, the emotion behind it that of appreciation - coupled with a little bit of desire. “I know, Nova. I wouldn’t be opposed to your attempts at soothing it, either, but don’t worry. I’m merely suffering through it.”

Thoughts of her gentle touch upon his brow overcame him, already seeming to lessen the throbbing pain still present from his hangover. Spirits, he would have liked that - to just lie back and allow his woman to caress over his temples, along his fringe, soothing out the tension and letting him focus not on the irritation, but on her fingers tracing along his hide like silk. Saren growled low in his throat, wishing he could experience that right now, rather than be forced to look at her but have her so far out of his grasp. As if trying to deny the distance between them, the old Spectre raised his hand and reached for her, only to have the tips of his talons slip past the holodisplay and touch nothing but air. He had to make due with caressing over the very edge of the screen, right along where her cheek was. 

“... I miss you, Saren..” she said, as if in response to his pathetic attempts to touch her. Her own hand came up and seemed to reach towards him, mirroring his motion and noticeably trembling beyond the slight fuzz of the video feed. Her words seemed to strike directly into his chest, almost knocking the breath from his lungs. And as Saren looked past her delicate fingers to focus on her face, he felt a wave of guilt and regret wash over him as he saw the few stray tears that had escaped to run down her cheeks. 

“ _ Amatra _ ,” he said, expression soft as he looked upon her but voice deeper, more authoritative. “Please don’t cry.” He had never been able to handle her crying like this; it always made him feel too useless, too ineffective. Saren never wanted to see the girl cry, but at least when she was physically in his arms, he could more easily wipe the tears away and distract her. With light years of distance between them now, he couldn’t bear it. 

“I-I’m sorry, it’s… i-it’s just b-been a long f-few days.. t-trying to readjust to the ship is.. I-I just am, um.. a-a little stressed, i-is all..” she said, rubbing at her eyes and trying to give him a smile through her crumpled expression. She withdrew her hand from the screen, pulling back and taking a moment to readjust herself on the bed, messing with the pillows behind her, turning away from his gaze. Saren knew what she was doing, and it hurt to see her trying to hide her own pain away from him. He had thought by now, she would understand that doing so was unnecessary. 

She was his mate, after all. Sharing burdens was just as central to the relationship as sharing joy. Saren certainly didn’t need Nihlus to tell him that. 

“I understand. It will take at least a few days to get used to military life again, but that’s probably why your commander allowed you a day free of duties. Things will be back to normal in no time at all, Nova,” he told her, allowing the gentleness to sink back into his voice. She finally turned to him again, almost shyly - and Saren smiled, hoping to wash away the last of her worries. Thankfully, she returned it after only a few seconds pause. Satisfied, Saren took his own hand away from the screen and leaned back in his chair, subvocals humming pleasantly as he let his gaze roam over her for a moment. Before he allowed himself to get too distracted, however, he continued, “And I will be here for you as much as I am able.”

“Thank you, Saren…” Nova gave a short, stuttering sort of laugh as she added, “I don’t know w-what I’d… do without you..” 

_ Enjoy the lack of complications in your life, possibly _ , he thought privately to himself, though outwardly Saren merely chuckled and captured her gaze. 

“So,” he began, watching as she shifted ever so slightly at the change of tone in his voice. As always, her attention was focused solely upon him, and the fact of it made his mind sing with satisfaction and pride. One day, he hoped it would never be forced to stray due to outside factors that were beyond either of their control. With her raptly attending to his words, he resumed with, “What did you talk to your commander about?” 

“A-Ah, just… the past week, really. S-She wanted to know all about the program, and w-what I did and accomplished in it.. I-I told her about the, um, t-the exercises we were given, the t-tests.. working together with the other trainees. S-She, um.. she’s not biotic herself, b-but.. she wanted to… learn, I guess? Understand what I… w-what I did at the program, s-so that she… um, I’m not sure, actually..”

“So that she could empathize with you more easily, I suppose,” Saren replied, giving a short little pop of his shoulders. In all honesty, he wasn’t interested in talking about Nova’s family, about Commander Shepard. There was still a sort of anger, buried away in the darker recesses of his mind; he resented Shepard for stepping into Nova’s life and distracting her attention away, and for presenting one more difficulty in convincing his  _ amatra _ to give up the military life. Without Shepard around, Nova would have had almost no strong ties to the Alliance beyond any friendships she made - all the while, he would have been strengthening the odd, shaky bond they had formed. 

At the same time, he was grudgingly grateful for the other woman’s presence. Memories of that poor, pathetic child crying at the loss of her parents, of people she had known and grew up with, still haunted him - all the more so the closer he and Nova became. Despite the dark thoughts surrounding Shepard’s emergence onto the scene, Saren knew how happy it made his mate to find living family of hers… and for that, he could deal with the woman’s interference in Nova’s attentions. 

“I-I guess so… I.. um..” Nova bit her lip, eyes wavering from his own for a brief moment. Saren cocked his head slightly, making a curious sound in response to her actions, and it seemed to prompt her gaze to return, face contorted into what he could only read as a guilty expression. “She… a-asked about you..” 

“... And how was she aware of me in the first place?” he responded, voice coming out more tersely than he’d meant. Immediately he regretted it, seeing the frightened wince she made at his tone. But even so, Saren couldn’t help his paranoia screaming in the back of his head about someone knowing of his relationship with a human woman - even if they, too, were a human woman. 

“S-She.. I-I don’t know, s-she said I just… was.. glowing? Or something… I-I guess she could tell somehow that.. that I was happier..” she said, her voice quivering with the anxiety he must have caused her with his sudden change of tone. “I-I’m.. I-I’m sorry, S-Saren.. B-But, I-I tried to.. to keep as much quiet a-as I could.. she knows you as S-Servius, not.. um.. yourself…”

“I see…” That was all he could say for a long moment, the information giving him a small measure of relief. It wasn’t much, but at the very least, his public cover would prove useful for keeping his involvement with her a secret from the Council - or any enemies he’d made who’d use the information against him. Saren was no longer entirely sure which outcome he was more worried over, but so long as neither came to pass, he wasn’t going to dwell on it. Instead, he now tried to calm his paranoid thoughts enough to be able to soothe his mate’s anxious state.

Allowing a calming sort of purr to spill from his subvocals, he continued, “I’m sorry, Nova. Thank you, for your… discretion. I apologize for my words, and for not trusting you.. I should have recalled that by now, you’re fully aware of the sort of position I’m in, when it comes to… personal matters.” 

“Y-Yes.. I.. I-I know you haven’t wanted to, um.. broadcast this, this.. um…  _ this _ .” She gave a shrug of her slim shoulders, oddly motioning over herself as if that was all the explanation that was needed for what she meant. Saren merely nodded, not wanting to further that particular line of conversation - it presented too many opportunities for him to screw up and unintentionally upset her. “U-Um… i-if it helps, though, Corona seems to… a-approve of you. Kind of.”

Saren gave a derisive snort, unable to help the smile that tugged his mandibles outwards. As if he had cared for that woman’s opinion, though he supposed it at least gave Nova some sort of relief. “Good to know. So long as it remains at approval and  _ not _ a desire to meet with me out of some misguided attempt to lay down... ‘rules’ about how I should approach you in this relationship.”

Nova’s nervous laugh indicated her commander had very likely said something of the sort. 

* * * * *

For the remainder of the day, they had simply talked - about anything and everything. Saren took the opportunity to ask her about things he had always been curious about, as well as mundane topics which Nihlus had intimated were necessary to know, though Saren couldn’t really understand for  _ what _ yet. In return, he responded to her own questions and answered them to the best of his abilities. Ironically enough, her line of queries seemed to nearly mirror his own. 

All the while, Saren allowed his gaze to roam over her - drinking her in. He still hated that damned Alliance uniform, but there was something to be appreciated in the way it formed to her body, always teasing but never to the point that imagination could be tossed aside. In a way, he enjoyed it, all the while knowing exactly what lay underneath the dark blue fabric and inwardly smiling to himself as he clearly mapped out a picture of her naked form in his mind. There was a twisted sort of pleasure he took, in knowing how many human males aboard the ship likely wondered what she looked like under those confining clothes but would never have their curiosity sated, while he remained the only man in the galaxy who knew every single inch of her in intimate detail. 

He fully intended to keep it that way, too. As soon as he could get her off that starship again, he would never let her go. 

During the hours they conversed, Saren learned an assortment of information about his  _ amatra _ . It ranged from mundane - such as her favorite color, type of music, foods, and so on - to the more specific, intimate discoveries; for a good while, Nova had spoken of her time as a child growing up on Earth, of the large field out in back of the estate where she lived with her Alliance-assigned guardians; a field which she had spent hours upon hours playing in after school, and had even spent many nights staring up at the sky from. The wonder in her voice as she’d recalled those times made his chest ache with longing, but he had merely listened intently as she spoke, almost entranced with the sense of childlike excitement she exuded during her story. Sometimes he really was heavily reminded of that small little girl, clinging desperately to his hand as if he was the only safe haven in the world for her. Nova had changed little since then - only now, he was her lover and companion, rather than an unwitting sort of savior. 

But their lengthy call soon had to end, despite neither of them seeming ready to pull away from the other. That now-familiar keen of heartache was humming from his second larynx again, as Saren watched her avoid his gaze for a moment, absently digging the back of her wrist into her eyes in an effort to ward off the tears he knew were threatening to fall. Spirits, how he wished he could hold her in his arms, force away the sadness and replace it with the same bliss he had given her over and over during those two long, maddeningly beautiful days together. But as it was, all he could do was say her name - quietly, soothingly, until finally she looked at him and tried to give a smile, to appear as if she wasn’t affected by their imminent parting.. or by the great distance separating them from one another. 

He was trying to keep himself together, too. If not for his own sake, then for hers. 

“I-I guess I should.. g-go find something to eat, g-get.. settled for the night. I… S-Saren, can I.. c-call you again, before bed? I… I-I know it..” 

_ I know it will be hard on us both _ , she seemed to be trying to say, though perhaps Saren was merely projecting his own thoughts on the request. Regardless, he didn’t even let her finish before he agreed to it, not even giving a single thought to whether or not he wanted to - for the answer would have been yes, no matter how long he thought it over or how much pain he knew it may bring him, to say goodnight to her only to be thrown back into the same state of loneliness as he had been before this vidcall. Any amount of contact, even if it was just to see her off to sleep, was better than going back to the days prior to this one. And seeing the way her face lit up after he responded, how brightly her beautiful emerald eyes seemed to glitter with joy and expectation, made any amount of pain worth it in the end. He returned her smile with one of his own. 

“S-So I’ll… t-talk to you again in a couple of hours or so.. I.. um, p-please eat something too, Saren. I wish I could be there to cook you something.. b-but, takeout would probably taste better anyway,” she said, giving a self-depreciating laugh that died off with a single look from him. Clearing her throat out, she continued, “B-But, um. Please? Eat something, so I won’t be worrying..” 

“I’ll head out to find something as soon as we end the call, Nova. I promise you,” he replied, idly running a talon along the length of the screen. Her eyes followed the motion almost imperceptibly, before flicking back to his own and softening in relief. 

“Okay. Thank you… a-and, I’m… I’m really glad we got to talk like this. It.. makes things a little easier.. Hearing your voice, I… I feel better. S-So.. I-I’ll talk to you soon, Saren.”

“I look forward to seeing you again,  _ amatra _ .” 

With that, she was the first to move, ending the call on her side and causing static to erupt on his own screen for a moment, before that too finally faded. And for a long time after, Saren merely sat in his chair, leaning upon his elbows and running a hand over his face with a distracted, dazed sort of motion. 

Thoughts were jumbled, and even when his mind cleared enough to start making sense of them, Saren pushed everything aside and focused only on doing as he’d told Nova he would. So he stood from his seat with a tired groan, grabbing his cloak from where he had tossed it aside on the bed and pulling it about his shoulders, heading with a much more steady gait towards the front door of his lonely apartment. And he made the trip down to the Presidium, checking in at a nondescript turian restaurant and taking his time to enjoy a full meal, all the while checking his omnitool for possible messages from his woman. There was only one, a brief message seemingly typed with a shaky hand that updated him on her activities. Saren replied to it with an update of his own. 

The night cycle was beginning not but a few minutes before he returned to his apartment, the normally bright light present in the Presidium dimming to simulate the sun setting. Another half hour later, Saren was leaning against the headboard of his bed, awaiting his mate’s call and picking up almost immediately when it came through. The old Spectre was then treated to a delightful show of Nova stripping out of her Alliance blues and into a plain sort of overshirt that looked much too big on her - nearly falling from her delicate shoulders as she’d climbed back on her bed and slipped into the covers, taking the omnitool with her so that they could still gaze at one another.

Saren had just enough time to make a mental note to get her something nicer to wear to bed, before being drawn into another conversation with her. This one didn’t last longer than it took for them to speak of their dinners, and finally to reluctantly wish one another a good night’s rest, but Saren appreciated every second of it. And even as her eyes finally started to drift closed, prompting Nova to end the call once more, Saren stayed with her until his screen finally went dark with static.   
  
As he lay back on the pillow block afterward, his chest aching and his mind burning for an alcoholic remedy, Saren couldn’t help a faint smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moving is terrible, i don't recommend it
> 
> working a lot is also terrible, and i also don't recommend it @.@


	7. Into the Unknown

_ 2 Months Later _

 

“Reassignment?”

The word rang in Nova’s head like a dirge, chilling her to the bone and sending shards of ice through her bloodstream. On one hand, she knew it had always been a possibility - there had never been any guarantee that she and Corona would remain aboard the same ship, serve together in the same posting for however long the two of them remained in the Alliance. It was only to be expected, as the years wore on and the galaxy was presented with new troubles. With humans expanding ever outward into the uncharted regions of space still unclaimed by any other species, duties would change; the Alliance would have to shuffle people around, build new ships, assign cruisers and frigates to new territories. 

Nova knew all this, and had always been aware of the potential for her and the commander to be separated. But even if she understood the possibility, that didn’t mean she’d ever been prepared for it to happen so soon. 

Corona gave a small shrug, her back still turned to the younger Shepard as she fiddled with the holoscreen of her terminal for a moment. “I was tapped by David Anderson, captain of the SSV  _ Tokyo _ . He’s one of the most decorated soldiers in the Alliance, and he was personally requesting  _ me _ to serve as his new XO aboard the cruiser…” she began, before giving another shrug - this one seeming heavier, more guilt-ridden. The woman stepped away from the terminal, motioning a hand towards it to invite Nova over. She approached, after a moment’s hesitation, coming to stand beside her cousin and giving the message displayed on the screen a quick glance. It looked like a formal, albeit unofficial, contact from this Anderson person, going over what Corona had basically summed up. 

Reading through it, Nova’s chest felt tight, a familiar anxiety rearing its head as she realized this was really going to be happening. It was already so hard being away from Saren; how was she supposed to deal with being parted from her only family? A lump was attempting to lodge itself in her throat, and she tried not to let it call up tears. 

“And you’re.. accepting?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking. 

“Not like I really have a choice in the matter anyway. At least, none that I’m aware of.. though honestly, even if I did, I think I’d.. still be taking the opportunity.” Corona twisted slightly, a hand reaching behind her to catch upon the arm of her chair as she lowered herself down into it. Nova turned to her, meeting her illuminated lavender gaze with what must have been a pathetic expression, for Corona tried to give her a reassuring smile. The guilt was still too heavy in her eyes, though, and so the upward turn of her lips felt forced - not at all like the gentle smiles Nova was so used to from her.

“W-What about the  _ Hong Kong _ , ma’am..? I-I thought… I thought you liked it here..”

“I do, Nova. Spent a good couple of years or so as this ship’s captain, after Akuze. The  _ Hong Kong _ may just be a frigate, but she’s a damn good ship, with a damn good crew. I’ll be sad to leave.” 

“Then… then why..” Nova could hardly even finish the question, feeling too much weight suddenly settling in her chest. She had spent half a year aboard the  _ Hong Kong _ , serving directly under Corona… spending almost every day under the command of her only living family; after the sordid events of that night on Mindoir, to even  _ have _ family left in the galaxy who were alive and free was a miracle in and of itself, let alone having the opportunity to get to know the woman as well as she had over such a short time. To think that they would be split up was almost terrifying. The past couple of months may not have been the happiest Nova had ever experienced - being parted from Saren like this for so long was taking its toll - but the presence of her cousin had done much to dull the pain somewhat. Corona’s seemingly endless energy and positivity had acted as a salve for months already, soothing away some of the terrible memories of the batarian raid, and more recently had been a welcome distraction from thoughts of how far away she was from the man she loved. 

To think that was all about to come to an end… it shook Nova to her core. 

“Sit down, Nova,” Corona said, waving a hand towards the bed situated not but a few feet away from the desk they were both hovering around. Her voice was gentle, but Nova could sense the authority below the surface - it was an order, rather than a suggestion. And she followed it almost unconsciously, walking the few steps towards the mattress and lowering herself onto the edge - meeting her cousin’s gaze again as soon as she was situated, shoulders slumped as if she was about to receive a lecture. 

Corona, however, merely fixed her with a calm stare. Propping an elbow up on the desk, the woman remained silent for a good few minutes, her brow knitted slightly as if she was deep in thought. The sight of such a serious expression had Nova’s heart beating loudly in her chest, a rising sense of guilt threatening to overtake her as she wondered whether she was being unfair in her reactions to what, normally, should be an expected scenario for any soldier. 

“You know, I met Anderson a long time ago,” Corona began, her voice faint as she leaned further back into the chair. Nova cocked her head to the side in curiosity, the statement thoroughly unexpected. “When I first joined the Alliance and got out of basic, he was the officer they called in to give that whole ‘welcome to the Alliance, we expect much and more out of you’ speech - you know the one.”

“Y-Yeah… hard to forget that one,” Nova responded, easily recalling the rough, grizzled voice of the admiral who had addressed her own graduating class. At the time, she’d felt more like she was still in a training session and being yelled at by the drill sergeant, rather than standing in her Alliance dress blues within a tightly-packed auditorium, awaiting that exciting moment when they would all officially be graduates. Upon hearing her cousin’s voice again, however, Nova took herself out of the memory to focus in on the woman in full.

“Well, he met with some of us in private, after the official ceremony. It was just a fraction of our whole class, probably no more than ten I’d imagine, though I still don’t know how many graduates were approached for the Interplanetary Combatives Academy.” Apparently seeing the momentary confusion on Nova’s face, Corona reiterated, “Er, the N7 program, basically.

“Well, the list was alphabetized I guess, so I was pretty far down and went in around the evening. When I finally got into the room, I could tell Anderson was pretty exhausted - hell, I was too, after the graduation ceremony and then being told I had to wait around in a hallway for hours for no explained reason. Even so, he never once let his exhaustion get in the way of what he was there to do, and he also didn’t try to shoo me out as quickly as possible so that he could move on. We sat for a while, chatted. He asked me questions about my training, what I wanted out of the Alliance, where I felt my strengths were… god, can’t even remember half of what he said that day.”

Corona chuckled, momentarily pausing in her recollection as she shook her head. The sound of her laugh was breathy, almost sharp with a strange mixture of happiness and exasperation. Nova wasn’t entirely sure what it was conveying. 

“But through it all, he seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying, had this sympathetic look in his eye that I wasn’t used to seeing from Alliance officers. I just remember thinking ‘this guy really cares about who I am as a person, not just what use I am as a soldier’. Not to act like the drill sergeants and instructors back in basic didn’t give a rat’s ass about any of us, mind you. Just..” 

Corona gave a weak sort of shrug. Despite her face being turned towards Nova, the younger woman could tell her cousin wasn’t quite looking  _ at _ her… more so looking beyond, back into a past Nova was unfamiliar with. 

“I guess for the first time, it felt like someone cared about me for something other than how useful I’d be. Sure, maybe Anderson was just good at acting like he did and really didn’t, who knows… but that meeting with him was what pushed me through the N7 program. Any time I’d get discouraged, or feel like I couldn’t make it, I just thought of this decorated Alliance vet with a hard gaze and an overwhelming air of authority.. telling me he was  _ proud _ to have people like me serving. Saying he hoped I’d find everything I wanted in Alliance.”

“I.. u-understand, sort of..”

“Heh, suppose you might. You said that Servius guy had been encouraging you through basic, teaching you stuff about biotics, right?”

Nova nodded, feeling a slight flush erupt along her cheeks despite herself. Even now, so many months later, she was still convinced that had Saren not been there for her during that long year of training, she likely wouldn’t have made it through. Far too many times, she had been blinking back tears as she typed out a message to him in the darkness of her cramped quarters, only to receive a confidence boost upon his return correspondence. He hadn’t always been gentle, however, and Nova recalled a good few nights where she would finally cry out of guilt, feeling worthless and like she’d failed the one person she wanted so badly to impress. But regardless of whether they had been harsh lectures or oddly sweet words of comfort, Nova had always come away from them with a renewed state of mind - her vigor returning, her resolve strengthening, and her nerves calming. 

So yes, Nova understood very intimately just how Corona must have felt as she recalled on Anderson’s words all during her N7 training. And that single point of camaraderie momentarily let her forget the saddening news her cousin had dropped on her - if only for a brief few seconds, at least. 

“He showed up when I made N7, too. No idea why, or how he even remembered me… but there he was, congratulating my efforts and welcoming me into the Alliance all over again. It felt good, to think there was even one person out there rooting for me - even if I’d barely spoken to him more than a time or two. I don’t know.. maybe when I was younger I was just substituting Captain Anderson for the father I never got to grow up with.” Corona finally looked directly at Nova again, her eyes back in the present and piercing into the younger woman with a stoic sort of resolve. “But whatever the reasoning, I just want you to understand why I’d have accepted Anderson’s offer even were I given a choice in the matter. It isn’t that I hate the  _ Hong Kong _ , or want to leave this ship and crew behind… I just feel like I owe it to him, you know? Besides, working under an officer as decorated and renowned as he is would be an honor and a privilege for anyone.”

Logically, Nova understood her cousin’s reasoning. She could even admit to herself that were she in Corona’s position, she too would likely have gladly accepted the reassignment with excitement and pride. Corona had been through a lot during her career; the N7 program was rumored to be the toughest, most brutal sort of training anywhere in the Alliance, with a little less than 1% of soldiers making it through the final test and earning the designation. Going through something as horrific as Akuze, on top of that… it was a wonder her cousin hadn’t filed for honorable discharge. But Corona was a fighter, a survivor - a woman forged in the fires of battle and continuing to serve proudly as a commander. Nova couldn’t think of anyone else who deserved an opportunity to serve alongside a man with as many medals on his chest as Anderson supposedly had… honestly, in her opinion Corona deserved to be an admiral by now, with her service history. 

But for all her understanding of the situation, Nova still couldn’t stop a few tears from escaping. 

“Hey… hey, come on now, kid,” she heard Corona say, the woman’s voice lowered into a soft, anxious sort of tone. A second later she heard the commander rise from her chair and walk the few paces towards the bed, and a warm hand fell upon Nova’s shoulder just as she closed her eyes, wiping away the tears in embarrassment. A noticeable shift on the mattress indicated that Corona had come to sit beside her, and Nova let herself be pulled closer against her cousin’s side, the woman’s arm wrapping around the back of her neck to settle in a gentle but firm grip on her opposite shoulder. She almost pulled away immediately, however, as more tears slipped out in response to the familiar motion - but Nova merely sat there in her cousin’s embrace, almost frozen in place.

“I-I’m sorry,” she started, once more swiping at the infernal moisture sliding down her cheeks. Guilt pooled in her for crying at all, and it made everything all the harder to stop. “I-I just… this just f-feels so sudden, I… I didn’t think we’d.. we’d get assigned t-to s-separate..” 

“It is sudden, yeah. I wasn’t expecting a request for me to be reassigned any time soon, and especially not from Captain Anderson, of all people.” Corona gave the younger woman’s shoulder a slight squeeze. “But… neither of us can do anything about it, Nova. I can’t exactly tell Alliance Command to go shove their reassignment up their asses… and well, like I said before: working directly under Anderson is a great opportunity that a ton of soldiers would kill for.”

“I-I know… I-I know all of that, I… a-and I’m happy for you, y-you.. you deserve this, i-it’s almost.. like a promotion, s-sort of. I-I… just.. need time. I-I guess..”

“... Maybe. Or, if you feel up to it.. you could listen to an offer of mine, Nova?”

“Offer..?” Nova finally opened her eyes, hating how watery they felt as she turned to look up at her cousin. Corona had an odd expression on her face; like a hodgepodge mixture of worry and indecision, coupled with an overlay of guilt. She wouldn’t quite meet Nova’s gaze, and after a moment, Corona removed her arm from Nova’s shoulders and took to leaning over slightly, elbows resting on her upper legs as she stared over at the terminal across from them. 

A heavy silence fell between them, oppressively pushing in on Nova’s already anxious mindstate and causing her hands to shake as she kept her eyes on Corona. She balled them into fists overtop one another, shoving them into her lap in an effort to hide the unwanted motion, but Nova needn’t have bothered. Corona kept her gaze facing forward, only allowing it to dip to the floor now and again as she sucked in a cheek, her jaw moving in a way that indicated she was chewing upon the inner skin. Even in her quiet fit of worry, Nova couldn’t help finding the habit a parallel to her own of biting her lips; it was only through daily application of healing lip gloss that her mouth wasn’t a disfigured mess of torn skin and chewed muscle. Almost unconsciously, she raked her teeth over her bottom lip as she awaited her cousin’s next words, mentally chastising herself for the action afterwards. Corona remained immobile for a good few minutes more, looking for all the world like a woman deep in thought. 

Then she began, “Okay, well. I don’t know whether it’ll help you feel any better about this or not, but..” 

The commander finally stood with a sigh, pulling herself to her feet and walking a few steps away from the bed before turning to fix Nova with a heavy stare. She saw Corona suck in a cheek one more time, her tongue making an odd sort of clicking sound against her teeth as she did so. And then, the woman continued with, “I made a single request of Anderson. I don’t have any real way to decline the reassignment, so trying to leverage my side normally would be pointless, but… I figured the Alliance owes me one, for them dropping the ball on intel during Akuze. And well, Anderson’s always seemed like a reasonable sort, so I figured the worst that could happen is my first few months serving with him would be awkward due to the declined request.”

“W-What was the request..?” Nova finally asked, seeing the expectation in her cousin’s gaze. Corona gave an awkward, lopsided smile - as if not quite sure whether she should be casual or serious.   
  
“I asked if you could be reassigned to the  _ Tokyo _ alongside me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this chapter is so late to update but we've been moving all this week and I've been working nearly nonstop, it's been terrible ;_; And this section was difficult for me to get down properly, I'm pretty sure I've rewrote it like 4 times at least.
> 
> But we're all settled in now and aside from my work schedule still being horrendous, I should have more time to write this week.. @.@


	8. Just Like Old Times

A single shot, and the merc’s head exploded in a shower of red, their now-lifeless body falling ungracefully to the ground. 

Saren clicked his mandibles, an exasperated hum quietly spilling from his subvocals as he moved away from the scope of his sniper rifle. This group was full of amateurs; no professional band of smugglers would freely leave one single watchman conspicuously outside in the middle of an open span of desert, completely exposed to enemy fire and with no cover in easy reach. Barring that, a second person should have been on a rotational shift with the first, coming out every few minutes to check on them and survey the surroundings. But he had figured out these people were stupid long before ever setting up a nest along a craggy cliff a few clicks from the lonely warehouse. Were he not here helping Nihlus, Saren would have simply handed the matter over to local authorities in the nearest colony and let them deal with this group. 

Unfortunately, his former protegé had requested his presence for this case - spirits knew why - and so Saren had resigned himself to cleaning up a mess left behind by amateurs. 

Nihlus sidled up beside him, bringing up his binoculars and scanning the approach path they had planned to take to the warehouse’s entrance. “You never go for a clean kill, do you?” he joked, apparently seeing the headless corpse bent at an odd angle just outside the door. The younger turian’s voice had a noticeable edge to it, however - quite unlike the light, relaxed tone he usually had whenever they chatted on the Citadel. Saren was happy to see his former protegé still knew when to be serious, at least, despite having a rather easy-going sort of nature. He could say anything he wanted about Nihlus, but one thing that was undeniable was how well he fit into the role of a Spectre. 

Saren gave a pop of his shoulders in response to the quip, merely letting out a huff in response as he moved into a crouch and collapsed his rifle down, securing it back into its designated slot on his backpack. A few seconds later, he heard Nihlus move around him, and looked up to see the other Spectre reaching for his own supplies and stowing away the binoculars with a shake of his head. Saren could hear the worried undertone to his friend’s subvocals, and couldn’t help asking, “Something doesn’t feel right to you, does it?”

“You don’t sense it, Saren? Usually you’re the more paranoid one,” Nihlus responded, not looking up from rummaging around in his backpack. A moment later he withdrew two energy bars and offered one to the older Spectre. Saren flicked a mandible in irritation, shoving the ration away, only to earn a sigh from his former protegé. “Come on, you haven’t eaten since the night before. Don’t act like you aren’t hungry.”

“I’m not,” Saren stated flatly, slinging his pack up over a shoulder and walking past the younger man, carefully picking his way down the steep pathway they had used earlier. He heard another heavy sigh from Nihlus - more of a groan, really - and the scuffling of a second pair of feet following after him. 

“Starving yourself isn’t going to just magically make her appear in the mess hall of your ship, Saren. And she’d worry if she knew you weren’t eating often.”

“I’m fine, Nihlus. Now shut up about that and enlighten me as to the source of your bad feeling,” Saren growled, clenching his jaw tight and pushing away any thoughts of Nova that threatened to slip into his mind. He couldn’t be thinking of his  _ amatra _ while heading towards a soon-to-be battlefield… one slip, one moment of hesitation or distraction, and it’d all be over. 

Nihlus shrugged in response, finally moving up to fall in step by Saren’s side as the path widened and evened out some. “Hard to explain. When I heard about this smuggling operation and the casualty count left behind back on the cargo freighter they raided, I guess I just.. expected more? I figured we’d be dealing with Eclipse or even Blood Pack scum, but I’m sure you’ve realized by now that we’ve been tailing amateurs for three days. I’ve never even heard of this gang they’re a part of… their notoriety is lower than even the Grim Skulls, and  _ that’s _ saying something.”

“It’s more like they have  _ no _ notoriety,” Saren corrected, glancing over to the building far in the distance. “We hardly found any mention of them anywhere on the extranet. Either they’re a recently-formed group that as of yet hasn’t done anything to make a name for themselves… or they’re a cover operation for something much bigger. Pawns.”

“The only thing I remember seeing is a brief interview with some dock worker on a human colony. He claimed the group was involved with some large anti-alien terrorist organization. What was the name..”

“Cerberus,” Saren offered, recalling the article his friend was thinking of. The contents hadn’t been much to bother with, and in the end they both had tossed it out as just the testimony of a red sand-addled human who had been trying to get some publicity with his wild stories. It had at least given them a name for their quarry, though sadly no pertinent information that could explain the discrepancies between the reported attack on a turian cargo ship and the group of idiotic, unorganized amateurs they had tailed across a vast expanse of desert on an out-of-the-way colony world in the Verge. 

“Right, that one. Well, Cerberus is real enough… I don’t see a well-funded group like that using a bunch of kids with no training as some kind of front for a greater operation, though.” Nihlus shook his head as if to deny the entire thought of it, looking out towards the warehouse as well and giving an anxious flick of his mandibles. “Still, this whole thing just… I don’t have a good feeling about it, Saren. I don’t know why, but my gut is telling me we’re walking into an ambush.”

“Then  _ focus _ , Nihlus. Whatever happens, I don’t plan on being taken down by a group of pathetic humans acting like they’re indestructible,” Saren said with a growl, tearing his eyes away from both the building and his former protegé. Reaching behind him to his backpack, the older Spectre withdrew his collapsed assault rifle from its holster, extending it out and checking his clip before holding it downwards in a relaxed manner as he focused on their little pathway. At a quiet chuckle from Nihlus, however, he glanced to the side and arched a brow.

“I’ll hold you to that, Saren. After all, you’ve got a pretty girl waiting for you now… and I feel I have a duty as your best friend to pull your old ass out of the fire so you can see her again.”

Saren let out a bark of a laugh. “We’ll see who’s pulling who out by their cowl, Nihlus. I haven’t lost my touch yet.” 

Despite his words, however, Saren couldn’t help feeling a little grateful for his irritating protegé. Nihlus had always been a good soldier, and after being made a Spectre, his skills had only seemed to improve by leaps and bounds - becoming sharper, quicker, his aim more accurate and his resolve unshakeable. Saren preferred working alone, looking out only for himself rather than worrying about a team.. but he’d be the first to admit that he wouldn’t want anyone else at his back during a firefight. Nihlus was almost as good a killer as he was, and with the bonus of youthful reflexes on his side. 

And for whatever reason, the younger turian had made it his personal mission to keep Saren hale and healthy, quoting “so your girlfriend won’t be sad” whenever he made passing mention of it. Saren had shrugged it off most of the time, but even so, he wasn’t about to deny wanting to stay alive just to one day be with his  _ amatra _ again. He’d never had a future to look forward to before… certainly not one that involved the presence of an infuriatingly beautiful human woman standing over the stove and greeting him whenever he returned home. Nova’s face passed briefly through his mind; a single point of weakness, of distraction, that he allowed to surface before pushing all thoughts of her away, into the special corner of his subconscious that had been reserved solely for his disaster of a mate. 

Hefting the assault rifle in hand and feeling comforted by its weight, Saren once more focused only on the mission. There would be time to think of his woman later.

* * *

 

Nihlus eyed the other turian now and then, trying to read his expression as they drew agonizingly closer to the warehouse. 

Their approach was slow, each of them dodging from one craggy outcropping to another, keeping as close as they could to what little cover there was scattered along their path. He was in charge of keeping an eye on the warehouse entrance, making sure that no one was coming out who could possibly notice them; they were rather conspicuous out in the open like this, with Saren’s silvery armor and Nihlus having donned his favored black and red. But no matter how many times he fell into a crouch and withdrew his binoculars, Nihlus could never make out any movement near the door, seeing only the corpse of the solitary guard Saren had taken out before. 

Honestly, they had both expected this - the group seemed to have no real inclination towards tact or subtlety, appearing as little more than a frightened gathering of uncoordinated gunmen who were in way over their heads. Still, Nihlus couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right with this whole case. 

The worry was only worsened by the strange behaviour Saren had been exhibiting. The man had never been much of a glutton before, but he’d barely eaten at all since they had left the Citadel almost a week ago. To add to that,  _ Nihlus _ was the one paranoid about this mission… he had learned from a young age to trust his gut instinct, and Saren had made sure to hone that sense during the nearly year long training period he’d spent with the old turian. But Nihlus’ paranoia and instincts were only a fraction of Saren’s, to the point that he had questioned many times over the years whether his former mentor was going senile as he got on in age. The fact that he had no misgivings about this case, nor any sense of danger tugging at the back of his mind, worried Nihlus even more than the Spectre not eating. 

Of course, it wasn’t like he didn’t know what the root cause was. Despite his attempts to hide it behind his usual cold, distant facade, Nihlus could tell his old friend was pining hard after his mystery woman - and had been for a little over two months now. He’d seen the pain in Saren’s expression, whenever the Spectre had thought he wasn’t looking; Nihlus saw the way his friend’s mandibles clenched tightly to his jaw, heard how his subharmonics spilled out with a lonely keen now and then. And more than anything, his friend’s heartache was noticeably present in the agitated, almost manic way Saren threw himself into any sort of work or activity he could - as if trying to deny himself time to think. It was relieving that he’d managed to talk Saren out of drinking himself into a stupor, at least, but Nihlus still had a hard time watching his old friend and former mentor drown in a silent pain. The fact there was little he could do to help just made it all the more unbearable to see. 

Saren’s increasingly pathetic state had been the primary reason Nihlus had even requested his help with this case. Like his former mentor, Nihlus preferred working alone and relying only on himself. Unlike Saren, however, it wasn’t because he particularly hated company, or didn’t enjoy working with others; Nihlus merely found it easier to worry only for himself, rather than having the added stress of having to watch out for a partner or squad. Having even one other person at his side during investigations increased the likelihood of something going wrong - of him getting distracted and taking a bullet to the back of the skull, or of his partner being killed due to his inability to protect them. And Nihlus certainly had enough on his conscious without the added grief of losing someone during a mission. 

But despite all of that, he had badgered Saren into coming along with him “for old time’s sake”, trying to distract him for a while and get his old friend back into a situation he could control. Saren had always been a warrior first and foremost, a man dedicated to defending the stability of the galaxy at any cost - and even if this case turned out to be little more than just some amateurs playing with fire, at least it had served as an opportunity for Saren to think about something else for a while, rather than suffering over thoughts of a woman who was out of his reach right now. 

Much as Nihlus was happy for the grouchy old man having found love, he wasn’t about to let Saren stew in silent pain for months without at least  _ trying _ to help.

Saren was the first to sprint from his final bit of cover, making a quick run to the entrance of the warehouse and pressing his back firmly against the metal plating of the wall. A moment later, Nihlus followed suit at a sign from his friend, rushing over through the expanse of desert between their final little bit of rocky outcropping and the shadow of the building they were about to infiltrate. Like Saren, he pressed himself flat on the building’s exterior, on the opposite side of the door from where the older Spectre stood, and gave a sharp nod. Saren returned it without looking at him, instead running his gaze along the length of reinforced polymer that made up the only portal into the complex.

Judging by the quick flicking of his mandibles, Nihlus could infer that his former mentor was debating on their next course of action.

“We could try tossing some grenades in there first, then rush in during the panic and clear out anyone who’s left,” he said quietly, keeping his voice at a level so that only Saren could hear him. The older man merely let out a thoughtful hum in response, one hand retreating from the barrel of his assault rifle to idly run over the various types of grenades attached in slots along his belt. In all honesty, Nihlus was a little surprised Saren was even thinking the option over - he clearly recalled that being a favored method of the Spectre’s, when it came to clearing out a single-story building full of enemies. 

“We have no way of knowing how close they are to the door, or how many would be within range of the explosions,” Saren finally replied, withdrawing his hand and hefting his rifle back up in an easy manner. A second later, he continued, “There was a staircase located to the left of the entrance in the blueprints we found of this place. We could go in quietly, have one of us move to the walkway above and gain the advantage of high ground... while the other takes out the ones on the first level.”

“Quietly hasn’t usually been your style, Saren,” Nihlus whispered, loud enough so that his friend could hear but more so saying it to himself. But Nihlus merely shrugged the oddity off - the old Spectre had started taking less risky approaches recently, while still keeping up his penchant for ruthless efficiency. He wasn’t going to assume anything, but the young turian couldn’t help wondering if his mentor’s newfound caution had been born from the worries of his human girlfriend…. but those were thoughts for another time. Putting them aside, he gave a shrug to his friend. “They could be expecting us to try something like that. Possibly have an ambush set up.. is that a risk you’re willing to take, Saren?”

“....”

Saren tore his gaze from the door, instead closing his eyes for a moment and sighing. Nihlus’ trigger finger itched, his anxiety over this entire mission heightened as he waited for the older Spectre to work through whatever it was causing a hangup for him - but he tried not to rush Saren. There was no point in making them both worry, and Saren had made it quite clear early on in his training that pressuring him into a decision was a good way to get shot. 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait much longer before his fellow turian looked over to him, his features set in a determined grimace. Saren reached down to his belt once more and tossed a few grenades over to Nihlus, who caught them with little effort. 

“Saren?” he asked, curiously pocketing the grenades. His mentor gave a flick of his head towards the door. 

“We’ll compromise. You go in and toss those grenades at the first person you see, then open fire on anyone else. We’ll make them think there’s only one of us. You’ll just need to hold position long enough to attract the entire gang’s attention.”

“And what will you be doing while I’m putting my ass in the line of fire?” 

“I’ll give you two minutes to get everyone’s attention. Then I’ll make my way inside during the chaos and head up the staircase, flank them and provide you some cover fire.” Saren’s mandibles flicked once, and Nihlus had to stifle a laugh at the taunting grin his old friend was giving him. “Think you can handle a simple operation like that, Nihlus?”

“I’m more worried about you, old man. Don’t trip going up the staircase on those rickety old legs of yours,” he responded, returning the smile only briefly before focusing his attention on the doorway. There was no point in arguing the specifics or spending precious seconds going over every possible ambush they could be walking into, so he merely gave a nod to his mentor and readied himself, slipping the third grenade into his belt while keeping the other two clutched in one hand.

Saren silently moved over to his side of the door, coming up behind him and hovering his palm over the control panel. “On three,” Nihlus heard him growl, and hefted his assault rifle in his other hand, staying as close to the wall as he could without impeding his partner’s movements. 

His heart was racing in anticipation of the coming battle, but Nihlus tried to regulate his breathing and remain calm. Listening only to the familiar baritone of Saren’s voice counting down, he centered himself - allowing his mind to reside in the eye of the storm, at peace amidst the raging vortex. It was a practiced habit, a skill born during his early career in the military; over the years he had worked as a Spectre, Nihlus had refined and honed it until it came as second nature to him. And it had saved his life countless times where otherwise, he may well have died from slipping into a panic.   
  
“Three,” Saren said, and immediately accessed the control panel, causing the bulwark to open and giving Nihlus a brief few seconds to slip inside and roll into the shadows. As soon as he was in, the door shut behind him, plunging him into complete darkness save for the dim light shining from further inside.


	9. A Tough Pill to Swallow

Saren quickly pressed himself back against the metal exterior of the warehouse the moment he saw the last inch of his protegé’s body disappear into the gloom within. 

A part of him wanted to rush inside right at Nihlus’ back - a desire to kill, a need to ensure the entire operation went smoothly and exactly as he had planned - but he kept himself still and began counting down the seconds in his mind, priming his kinetic shields and doing quick, last-minute checks of his weapons. In all honesty, Nihlus didn’t even need two minutes to accomplish his given task, seeing as the younger turian’s skills rivalled his own. But Saren was trying to give them both some leeway on the off chance his partner’s instincts were correct - on the chance there was more to this supposedly bumbling gang of smugglers than met the eye. So he waited patiently, fingers drumming along the stock of his rifle; the first grenade went off right as he counted through one minute, a muffled explosion somewhere further inside the compound accompanied by a noticeable rumble against his back and vibrations under his feet. The screams of the poor bastards caught in its incendiary effect followed soon after, and then Saren picked up on the distinct sound of automatic gunfire. 

He got halfway through the next minute before hearing another explosion - this one much closer, enough so to rock the exterior wall and cause some of the dust atop the roof to rain down mere inches from where Saren stood. The old Spectre couldn’t help a proud smile; Nihlus had become a man after his own heart, despite still not quite seeing eye to eye on how each of them handled their investigations. More gunfire echoed behind the door, and angry shouting could be heard moving deeper within the complex. 

Saren cautiously palmed the control panel again, raising his assault rifle and quickly moving into the dimly illuminated room beyond, sweeping the immediate area. After confirming there were no threats in the vicinity, he waited in the shadows until the door slid closed again, then moved in a quiet crouch towards the old metal staircase. It led up to a walkway level above the main warehouse grounds, which looped in a circuit around the space - not exactly something that could be used as a sniper nest, but with enough of an advantageous position for Saren to pick off enemies out of Nihlus’ reach. At first Saren tried to keep the sound of his footsteps to a minimum, but realized halfway up that he needn’t bother; the cacophony of shouting and gunfire drowned out anything else, allowing him to quickly ascend to the upper floor and press himself against the wall. A single entryway was to his right, barren of a door and giving him a clear view out into the bulk of the warehouse and catwalk. Keeping himself as far into the shadows as he could, Saren risked a peek around the doorway, taking note of the two humans further along the railing directly north of his position. 

Neither of them had sniper rifles, instead using long-barrel pistols to fire down on Nihlus’ position below. Saren didn’t see any more straight down the path, so after making sure the gunmen’s focus was entirely on the fight with the younger Spectre, Saren quickly sprinted the length of the doorway to rest against the other side of the frame, trying to see down the east side parallel to the entryway’s wall. 

Two more humans could be seen, huddled together behind a reinforced crate converted into makeshift cover. But he could hear shots being fired from even further downwind of their position, so Saren was counting on at least one or two more in that direction. Scanning the rest of the catwalk along the opposite side of the warehouse, he made out only one lone human down near the far corner, who was trying to take potshots at his partner’s position during the chaos. 

Lowering his assault rifle to the floor by his feet, Saren reached back and unhooked his Izaali Combine-manufactured sniper rifle from its place on his backpack, extending it out to its full size and quicking adjusting the scope as he hefted it up and took aim at the human in the corner. The man was young, barely more than a teenager by the looks of it, and Saren noted the kid wasn’t even wearing any sort of body armor or helmet. 

Sloppy, just like all the rest of them. Saren felt no hint of remorse as he locked onto the boy’s head and squeezed the trigger. 

The shot was soundless, muffled by his custom-modded silencer along the barrel, but the spray of blood that followed the bullet hitting its target drew the attention of one of the humans along the northern railing. Saren quickly rounded on them, lining up his shot to the vulnerable portion of the man’s face just below his helmet’s visor, and fired. The shot ripped through the weak kinetic shields and ruptured the human’s jaw in a glorious red display, killing off his scream of pain with pathetic gurgling before he fell forward against the railing and tipped over, disappearing from view as his lifeless body tumbled to the level below. 

With a speed and accuracy rivalling even the best asari huntresses, Saren snapped off a third shot to the remaining enemy; as with the last, the man’s shields proved little protection against the sheer force of the bullet, and it tore through his light body armor to penetrate deep into his chest and blow out the back, leaving behind a sizeable hole. The man spasmed, his gun falling to the metal walkway and knees soon giving out, crumpling him into a twitching mess against the railing. 

A weak but rapid beeping reached the Spectre’s ears, alerting him to his weapon’s thermal clips overheating. Saren grimaced, feeling the coolant erupting from the sealed compartments deep within the weapon’s frame and rapidly spreading to return the rifle to a regulated temperature; as effective as it was, the sniper rifle could only fire up to two shots in fast sequence. Any further and it would lock up like it was doing now, becoming all but useless for the minute it took the gun to return to a manageable level. 

Tossing it to the side, Saren retrieved his assault rifle and hefted it up, stepping sideways through the open portal and opening fire on the remaining humans to the east of his position. While it certainly didn’t have as much blatant stopping power as his sniper rifle, it was still effective in shredding through the first man’s shields, ripping his uncovered skull to pieces. A geyser of blood sprayed across the wall, painting macabre artwork in its wake and falling back on the human’s companion as his maimed corpse crumpled to the floor. Another short burst was aimed at the next enemy, but this time the man’s shields held up long enough for him to dodge behind more reinforced crates and get out of the line of fire. 

Saren retreated back to the doorway, pressing himself away into the shadows to avoid any retaliation. He made a quick check of his gun’s temperature, not willing to risk another overheat after the sniper rifle; satisfied that it was still maintaining a steady degree, Saren reached down to his belt and briefly ran a talon over a grenade, contemplating. A moment later, he withdrew it with a short exhale through his nostril plates. 

_ Too risky _ .

There was a high possibility of blowing out a section of the railing, resulting in huge chunks of metal beams and platform raining down to the floor below - and possibly right on top of Nihlus. Were he acting on his own, he would have thought nothing of collateral damage, but working with a partner required a more cautionary approach - much as he was loathe to accommodate such a thing. But Saren had known it would be like this the moment he’d grudgingly agreed to come along with Nihlus on this investigation, so he had no one to blame for this irritation but himself. 

Peeking out of his cover again, he took note of the crates piled high atop one another, providing a veritable wall of defense for the human cowering behind them as well as a large blind spot for  the Spectre. And he couldn’t risk blind spots.

Taking another deep breath, Saren’s mandibles flicked as he shifted his rifle to one hand, clenching the other into a fist and concentrating all his thoughts onto the image of throwing aside the crates keeping him from his prey. The telltale tingle of dark energy began to surround him - slowly at first, but quickly spreading to encompass his entire body before finally centering along his hand. Were one to look closely, they would see a slight distortion in the air around the turian - akin to a heat wave overtaking his figure. 

But as Saren finally moved out from his cover and thrust his fist forward, all the human would have seen was a his cover being smashed to pieces.

* * *

 

Nihlus ducked down as another staccato burst of automatic fire peppered against his makeshift fortress.

The first minute had been simple enough; he’d snuck quietly through the second door separating the entryway from the main hub of the warehouse, keeping to the shadows until he came close enough towards a group of mercenaries to lob a standard-issue explosive grenade at them. The first had caused mass panic amongst the group, with everyone not immediately caught in the blast scrambling to grab weapons and duck into the nearest cover they could find, all of them yelling profanities and a few barking orders to the rest - many of which seemed to have went unheard. Nihlus hadn’t stopped to take an accurate body count in that first hectic shuffle of combat, but he was sure that at least four of the twenty-something mercs they’d seen enter were blown to bits by the explosion. 

And then he’d made sure to take down two more during the brief moment of confusion immediately following his grenade, before having to flee into cover as they honed in on his position. 

With only a few seconds to spare in his allotted time, Nihlus had tossed a second into the fray - sending two more mercs to their deaths and killing the shields on five others. Pinned behind a small mountain of metal crates as he was now, Nihlus was satisfied he’d at least done his part well enough. Now it was just a matter of picking off as many mercs as he could while awaiting Saren’s assistance. 

He could hear the humans still shouting amid the cacophony of gunfire, though had only made out the words “kill that damn skull-faced bastard” and little else. He couldn’t help a small grin at that, though - what a  _ privilege _ it was, to hear an age-old insult from the Relay 314 incident thrown at him despite having not even been born at that point in history. As thanks, Nihlus withdrew his sniper rifle and popped out of cover long enough to fire at a lone merc’s skull, mandibles flicking in appreciation as he saw it burst into a bloody mess of bone and brain matter before being forced to duck down again. He heard angry screams of rage from the rest of the gang, and even some terrified shrieks - but he didn’t let the audio tempt him out into the line of fire again. 

It was at that moment he saw the first sign of his partner’s arrival onto the scene; a maimed body fell from the upper level of the building to splatter unceremoniously against the hard concrete of the ground floor, apparently landing in plain view of someone as Nihlus soon heard a yell of “Dammit! There’s another one?” before a dual round of automatic weapons fire drowned out everything else. Sparing a quick glance upwards to the catwalk, Nihlus could just make out another merc falling dead against the railing. 

“About time, Saren,” he grumbled, unable to help how his heart raced in anticipation. 

It had been almost a decade since he’d last fought alongside his old mentor, but Nihlus distinctly remembered the feelings it had evoked within him to watch such an infamous Spectre at work. Saren’s ruthless efficiency was well-known by many in the galaxy, but very few had ever gotten to see  _ how _ he worked, how his body seemed to move of its own accord - with a practiced grace that gave way to a bloodlust hidden just below the surface of the man’s calm facade. Nihlus had seen the old turian bring down a heavily-armored target with a single shot before, his aim nearly perfect and every bit as deadly efficient as one would expect of a man with Saren’s reputation. During the early months of his training, Nihlus had felt almost  _ unworthy _ to be under the tutelage of such a perfect soldier, thinking he would never be able to reach Saren’s level of complete and utter mastery in his craft - sometimes even believing he wouldn’t be able to take life quite so easily as his mentor. 

But those months spent training with Saren and fighting at his side were still some of the best he’d ever experienced. And especially with the recent developments his old friend was going through - watching helplessly as Saren tried to work through unfamiliar feelings of love and desire only to keep crashing out in frustration with every day spent apart from his human girlfriend - Nihlus was more than a little excited to see the familiar killing machine back in action. 

Hardly a few moments had passed since the first body had fallen from above when Nihlus heard a great crash. He spared another glance upwards to the catwalk, mandibles vibrating in surprise as he caught a glimpse of a wave of energy ripping through the reinforced crates and barrelling across the metal platform to slam directly into another merc. The human was knocked completely off his feet, flung backwards from the sheer force of the biotic attack and flying a good few paces from where he’d been hiding before finally crashing against the wall.

Hearing a brief lull in gunfire, Nihlus reluctantly tore his eyes away from the happenings above and popped up from his makeshift fortress, mowing down the two nearest mercs and spraying the rest of the area for as long as it took his weapon to nearly overheat. Mentally ticking off the newest kills down below and up on the catwalk, he figured they only had a little less than fifteen enemies left to deal with. Dropping back into cover as retaliating fire broke out, Nihlus looked up towards the catwalk again.

Saren had already made quick work of the remaining mercs along the upper platform, and was now turning to look out upon the ground floor, hefting his assault rifle and leaning over the railing enough to deliver a quick burst down on the mercs out of Nihlus’ reach. For a single, terrifying second, Nihlus thought his friend had entirely lost all sense with how he was leaving himself completely vulnerable to enemy fire. But as someone finally tried shooting at the old Spectre, his fear turned into relief as a shimmering biotic shield rose up to surround Saren, encasing him in a protective sort of bubble and deflecting the bullets away harmlessly as the turian retaliated with his own burst of gunfire. 

“Quit showing off and help me out a little, Saren!” Nihlus called up to him, subharmonics falling slightly out of sync from the sheer adrenaline spiking through his veins. It had been a good while since he’d partaken in a true firefight like this, and even longer still since he’d done so alongside his former mentor; despite the dangers of distracting Saren with even something as simple as a joke, Nihlus couldn’t help delivering the excited quip as he felt his subvocals sing with battle lust. 

Saren gave him no notice, but did maintain his shield long enough to sprint the length of the catwalk and slide into some cover, all the while firing down on the remaining mercenaries hiding all through the warehouse grounds. It was a maze of boxes, pillars, and vehicular machinery, providing their quarry ample room to maneuver without fear of taking a bullet to the skull - but also hindering any sort of cohesive movement amongst their entire group, each trying to spread out from the others to avoid enemy fire… all the while simply making themselves easier targets to pick off.

With half of the mercs focusing on his partner, Nihlus took the opportunity to dive across a small gap of open space and roll behind a nearby shipping container, pressing back against the cool metal as he sprayed a quick burst from his new position - successfully taking down one guy trying to clamber into a lifting crane. Only a few people aimed at him with retaliating fire; Saren was still picking people off from above, effectively cutting the gang’s attention in half and splitting their priorities up, just as the two of them had planned from the start. Now it was a simple matter of clearing the warehouse of threats and finding any info left behind - and given how sloppy this group had been up until now, Nihlus anticipated them finding quite a haul. 

* * * * *

“Check around that side,” Saren ordered, jerking his chin towards the indicated direction. Nihlus gave a simple nod in response, turning to do as his partner commanded before feeling a hand grip his shoulder, stopping him before he even took a step. Turning back to meet the old Spectre’s gaze, the younger turian gave a curious tilt of his head. Saren released him, though his expression was hard and rigidly set in a grimace as he growled, “Assume they aren’t dead until you put a bullet in their skull.”

“... Right.” The way his partner said that made a chill run down Nihlus’ spine, but he merely walked away from the other turian in silence, hefting his pistol in both hands and taking a combat-ready stance as he slowly moved through winding piles of shipping crates and machinery. 

After Saren’s arrival on the scene, it had been a simple matter to take down the remaining mercenaries despite there being numerous places to hide within the maze of the warehouse. The few minutes between his partner running into cover, and subsequently floating down to him with a biotic field after the last human was shot down, had been a hectic rush between both factions - with Saren and Nihlus having continued to push their growing advantage, dwindling the merc numbers down one by one. A good few had been herded into groups by Saren’s ingenious use of singularities and supporting fire, with Nihlus taking the whole lot of them out after they’d been driven within range of his final grenade. The incendiary explosion had outright killed half of them, with the rest becoming covered in raging flames that burned through their protective armor and ate away at their soft flesh until finally, the shrieking had died off as the burn victims dropped to the floor one by one. 

It hadn’t exactly been a clean or fair fight, but Nihlus was trying not to let the gruesome results bother him as he picked through the corpses of their adversaries. 

The warehouse had grown silent now, with the battle ending; only the soft crackle of fires provided a backdrop to the gunshots that split the air now and then, as the two Spectres ensured the entire gang was dead and no longer a threat. Nihlus had never been much a fan of this sort of cleanup, but he understood the necessity and went about the morbid job with a calm facade, almost grateful to not run into any living humans as he kicked some of the corpses first to provoke reactions. It was one thing to kill someone in the middle of a firefight, and quite another to gun down an unarmed, wounded victim - and he had enough on his conscious without seeing the expressions of fear as he stared down the barrel of a gun at someone and ended their life up close and personal. 

Eventually, he came across the ones who had burned to death. Perhaps mercifully, most had died from combustion or their lungs being charred to cinders, leaving only the mutilated corpses behind as a testament to the actions Nihlus took. Were he still young and naive as he had been years ago when first training under Saren, he would have felt bile rise to his throat and threaten  to spill out, but as a veteran of countless battles now, years later… he could only wince as he looked over the smoking remains, at the way skin had melted away and fused with the muscle beneath. And amid it all, Nihlus hoped all the victims of the incendiary grenade were on his side of the warehouse, rather than Saren’s. 

Somehow, the idea of Saren looking over a sight such as this - at seeing the fragility and weakness of human physiology - didn’t sit well with him, given the man’s ties to a human lover. Perhaps it was a needless worry, as he was sure the man had seen much worse over the years.. but it remained even so. 

Nihlus soon stepped back into the clearing they had started at, looking around for his partner for a moment before hearing another shot ring out somewhere near the back of the warehouse. Mandibles flicking, the younger turian turned and followed after the sound, picking his way back through a maze of crates and walking past a crane peppered with bullet holes before finally spotting a flash of silver just downwind of his position. 

A corpse lay not far from Saren’s feet, and for a moment Nihlus paid it no mind as he approached his old friend. Upon hearing low, raspy breathing however, Nihlus nearly tripped as he stopped just behind Saren and looked down to the source - a very much  _ living _ human, clutching at a deep bullet wound just under his chest as he lay within a rapidly-spreading pool of his own blood, eyes shut tight against the pain. The younger Spectre’s mandibles flicked in surprise, and he carefully moved to stand a fair distance from Saren’s side, eyes checking over the merc to see if there were wounds anywhere else. 

There was a sizeable hole along his lower thigh as well, and some noticeable charring along his clothing - regular production-quality linen fabric barely covered by a basic set of protective armor pads along his chest, arms, and legs. The man had no helmet, and so Nihlus got a good look at his face as he kneeled down; the human couldn’t have been any older than twenty, if even that… his face was young, unweathered by time and battle, probably would have been handsome to his own species. 

Far too young to be caught up in mercenary work. Nihlus gave a wary glance up to his partner, who held a pistol at the ready, grip tight along the handle and finger poised on the trigger. 

“D-Damn… turian b-bastards…” 

Nihlus’ attention focused back on the wounded boy, brow plates lowering with an oddly sympathetic gaze. His voice, however, carried a dangerous tone of authority.

“Might want to mind your tongue, boy. You’re speaking to two Spectres.”

The human spat out a bit of blood, giving a weak, derisive laugh in response. “You think... w-we didn’t know? You’re... still skull-faced assholes, Spectre or... not.” His voice shook as he spoke, almost every other word breaking off into a series of gasps and grunts of pain, hands still pressing down hard against the bleeding hole in his torso. Judging by the position of the entry wound, Nihlus was pretty sure at least a few of his ribs had been shattered by the impact of the bullet - it was a wonder the man could even breathe at all, much less speak.

“You knew we were coming,” Saren asked, though it sounded more like a statement - said with an icy coldness that told volumes of how little sympathy he had for their wounded prisoner. The human laughed again, though it soon died off into a whine as blood dribbled down his chin. 

“W-Was… the entire p-point..” he said, turning his head and opening his eyes to stare at the two of them with what would have been quite a piercing gaze, were it not lessened by the man’s weakened condition. “Y-You really think w-we could have.. c-could have wiped out that f-freighter..?”

“No… not with how sloppy your people have been the past few days we’ve been tailing you,” Nihlus said, cutting off a sharp retort he saw his partner about to make. A single flick of his mandibles, and he continued, “Though if you knew we were coming, those sort of amateur mistakes could have been deliberate, too. So why should we believe you weren’t the ones who attacked the freighter?”

“W-We just… k-killed the prisoners. Agh-!”

The human hunched over, rolling to his uninjured side and curling into a fetal position as he tried to ward off a new wave of excruciating pain. Nihlus moved as if on instinct, reaching a hand out towards the man before coming to his senses and withdrawing. He stood, walking around to keep his gaze locked with the human’s even as the boy coughed up blood and wheezed for air. 

“Prisoners?” he asked, after waiting for the fit to stop. The merc closed his eyes for a moment, taking shallow breaths and remaining as still as possible… perhaps to avoid inciting them to rash action, perhaps simply to dull some of the pain. Nihlus found it a little cruel of them to let the man suffer like this while under interrogation, but he made no attempts to provide medigel to the human. 

After a brief pause in which Nihlus almost wondered if the man had passed out, the merc let out a weak laugh. “Guess no p-point… keeping it a s-secret now… C-Cerberus got what they.. wanted.” 

“Then start talking,” Saren growled, his voice that low, menacing rumble that always managed to strike an instinctual sort of fear within Nihlus. He gave a wary glance to his old friend, stamping down on the worried hum of his subvocals as he took in the man’s tightened expression. Perhaps that, more than anything, worried him the most; Saren’s mandibles were held stiffly against his jaw, brow plates lowered and subharmonics eerily silent as he glared daggers into the back of the human’s head. He hadn’t lowered his gun at all. 

“C-Cerberus… hit the.. the freighter…” the boy began. Nihlus could tell each word was agonizing for him to breathe out, yet he kept talking almost too easily - smugly, it seemed, despite how critical his condition was. “B-Brought us in as a.. as a cover… t-told us we could.. could have our sh-share of the c-cargo. W-We s-shot down all the r-rejects… the ones they didn’t t-take.. p-prisoner..”

“The reports said the entire crew was killed - how did they take prisoners without it being noticed?”

“There were… s-some that were.. s-said to have gotten s-spaced.. right?”

Nihlus didn’t respond, though an uncomfortable flick of his mandibles seemed to answer the human’s question. The man let out another raspy laugh, more blood trickling from his mouth as he did so. 

“Y-Yeah…. all a setup.. C-Cerberus ruptured the a-airlocks w-when we were through, t-to cover up the fact they… they took s-some of the crew.”

“Why did they take only part of the crew?” Saren demanded, moving closer and hooking the talons of his foot on the man’s arm, yanking him onto his back once more. The man winced and cried out in pain at the sudden impact, eyes shutting again as his whimpers turned into desperate, short breaths. 

For a moment, he almost went limp - prompting Nihlus to finally pop open a compartment on his hardsuit, withdrawing a small auto-injecting syringe filled with medigel. He pressed the capsule-like object against an uncovered portion of the man’s arm, giving it a few seconds to dispense a little of the healing salve into the human’s bloodstream before quickly withdrawing it and tossing the used container into an empty pouch on his belt. 

He spared a glance up to his partner, though couldn’t bring Saren’s gaze over to him and so was unable to silently plea with the man to be more careful. They were getting information out of their human captive far more easily than he had initially thought - and if he was able to keep talking, it could very well save them a lot of precious time that otherwise would have been spent scouring through any reports or datapads they found here in the warehouse. Nihlus wasn’t sure exactly what was prompting the sudden surge of rough treatment, recalling that Saren only used brutal means when a prisoner refused to talk.. but he wasn’t about to lose a chance to get this investigation cleared up just because his partner wanted to get violent. 

“F-Fuck if… if I know.. e-experiments, r-ransom… it’s f-fucking  _ Cerberus _ . They’re.. c-crazy bastards, b-but at least they f-fight for humanity i-instead of…” The human coughed, flecks of blood escaping his gorey lips and a gargling sound soon following. Nihlus moved quickly, pulling the man onto his side with a gentler touch than Saren; he wasn’t about to let their interrogation end because the human choked on his own plasma. As soon as he touched him, however, the boy shook him off so violently, so  _ strongly _ that Nihlus’ mandibles flicked in surprise as he withdrew, staring at the human in amazement. “Least Cerberus f-fights for humanity, d-does the… the dirty s-shit the Alliance won’t… they’re the only p-people not kissing the ass of all you f-freaks..”

“Humanity needs to learn its place in the galaxy,” Saren began reciting; it was an old lecture he had practiced countless times over the years - usually in front of human politicians taking issue with his investigations in Alliance-controlled space. Nihlus had only seen the full extent of it once before, years ago… but the memory of it was enough to make him move to cut Saren off. It could take a good few minutes if he let the man have the podium, and they couldn’t afford to waste that precious time.

Nor deal with the fact the speech could sometimes get rather… violent.

“The Alliance is merely trying to cooperate with the rest of the galactic community,” Nihlus said, giving his partner a quick glance. Saren’s rage was easy to see, though thankfully it still seemed to be directed primarily on their prisoner and not at him. Trying to speak evenly and slowly, he continued, “Humanity is still new in the galaxy. It’s admirable that your species’ government is trying to integrate with the rest of Council space in a peaceful and cooperative manner.”

“F-Fuck you, skull-face. Humanity… h-humanity s-shouldn’t b-be bowing down to a-alien overlords. N-Not after w-what we w-went through in the First… Contact War..”

“That was a gross misunderstanding between humanity and turians, and has been resolved for over twenty years now, with reparations made on both sides.”

“Y-You know how… m-many humans d-died at the hands of you fucking lizard bastards..?” the boy spat, his eyes open once more and glaring with a raging fire at Nihlus. “And what do we get…? ‘Sorry we killed your people, now... come be a subservient species under... our supposed joint rule with some... blue tentacle-headed sluts and f-frog things.’ F-Fuck you… and fuck the Alliance for… for falling for that bullshit..”   


“The same could be said of your species,  _ human _ ,” Saren growled, his voice somehow reaching an even lower baritone than Nihlus thought possible. The older Spectre moved forward, reaching for the man’s arm and twisting it back behind him, earning a pained shriek that felt like talons raking across metal to Nihlus’ ears. But right as he opened his mouth to tell his friend off, the look of pure  _ hatred _ on Saren’s face made him fall short; mandibles flared out in an aggressive display, jaw open enough to show off the rows of needle-sharp teeth, and a gaze that could have been as lethal as a dagger in the back, Saren looked more like one of the great predators native to Palaven in that moment, rather than a fellow turian. 

Saren yanked hard on the man’s arm again, ignoring the whine and the audible cracking that indicated he was breaking a bone somewhere. “Do you know how many turians I saw die by  _ human _ hands, boy? Just as many, or perhaps  _ even more _ than the losses sustained on your side. Do not speak to me of injustice. You act as if your kind were the only ones to lose friends, family…  _ brothers _ . This is why humanity will never have a larger role in galactic politics; this is why your species will  _ never _ have a seat on the council.” Tossing the man back to the ground and rising once more, Saren let out a terrifyingly quiet snarl. “You think only of yourselves.”

“Like I g-give a fuck about… all you damn dinosaurs. No amount of.. deaths on your.. side…” Nihlus watched as the human’s eyes rolled slightly in his head, his limbs twitching of their own accord before he seemed to regain control of himself. Taking in a deep, croaking breath, the boy continued, “Nothing will… e-ever make up for the people you took away… the lives you.. ruined.”

“Saren, that’s enough!” Nihlus shouted, seeing his normally calm, collected partner visibly shake in rage and lift a foot as if to kick the human. He rushed to the Spectre, ignoring the new fit of coughing from their human captive as he placed a hand on Saren’s shoulder, attempting to give some vague semblance of comfort to him while trying to quell the man’s anger. 

He understood that the topic of the First Contact War was a touchy subject for Saren, even in casual conversation; the man had lost his only living family during those few months of fighting, after all, though Nihlus had never been told how nor had thought to pry. Many turians still held a grudge against humanity for their initial assault, and especially so because of the heavy fines and sanctions that were called upon from the Council towards the Turian Hierarchy in an effort to apologize for the losses humanity had suffered. The Council had wanted to integrate humans into the veritable galactic melting pot, and despite much argument and grumbling on the part of their own species, the Hierarchy had made good on the reparations. And now, a little over twenty years later, humans and turians were just starting to get along and put the past behind them as they looked forward into a joint future of cooperation. 

Or so Nihlus liked to think, anyway. Unfortunately, there were many people on both sides who refused to move past the conflict. For those like Saren, who had lost people close to them during the fighting, it was even harder to do so.

Saren growled low in his throat, shoving Nihlus off but making no move to further harm their captive. He did, however, raise his gun and aim it at the human now lying near-motionless on the floor at their feet, finger once more poised on the trigger. His eyes, however, were on Nihlus - a gaze so icy that it chilled the younger Spectre to the bone. It was a look of pure fury, as if saying “I won’t hesitate to shoot him, regardless of what use he may be.” 

Nihlus made a note of it as he gave an uncomfortable flick of his mandibles, turning away from his partner to stare down into the equally-dark gaze of the human.

“Saren..?” they suddenly said, eyes moving just enough to run over the silver turian, as if examining him more closely. A second later, the boy started chuckling darkly - somehow managing to sound menacing even as he choked and wheezed during it all. “Shit… we’d been preparing.. t-to have a tough fight, but if we’d known it was  _ you _ coming…” 

Nihlus wasn’t surprised the human recognized Saren’s name; his partner had made quite an infamous mark in the Attican Traverse, especially among human colonies. Even so, he couldn’t help that same gut feeling from before raising its head again… bringing an uncomfortable series of questions to his mind as he watched the merc shake his head. 

“Cerberus bastards… probably just wanted to get… r-rid of us,” he continued, voice weak. It was probably a tough pill to swallow, thinking they were set up to fail - but Nihlus held his tongue as the boy closed his eyes and gingerly reached up to run a hand over the closing bullet wound. The medigel had helped stanch the blood flow, but Nihlus had a hunch there had been far too much internal damage for it to really help at all.. perhaps the human was aware of it, as he soon laughed again. “Guess this is… it for us. H-Here we all had big dreams of… taking vengeance on all you damn bird bastards for what happened to our friends… our family..” 

“Your gang was made up of people who hated our species?” Nihlus asked, a little incredulous. It wasn’t entirely unheard of, but such a simplistic sort of tie between people would never be able to turn them into a well-developed fighting force capable of achieving their desire. 

“Aliens in general, m-more like… but we all lost… l-lost something in the war.. My mom was a soldier, captured during the… the first battle, at Shanxi… they took her prisoner, kept her as a hostage a-along… along with a bunch of others.. Then you bastards fucking raped her.”

Nihlus outwardly displayed no reaction aside from a slight vibration of his mandibles, though mentally he couldn’t help feeling an extreme sense of guilt and sympathy wash over him - regardless of the fact this human had tried to kill them. 

And he couldn’t even deny what the man was saying; it wasn’t a heavily-advertized fact, and was kept tightly under wraps by the majority of the Hierarchy, but there had been a worrisome amount of reported cases of soldiers getting into prison cells and raping the human captives, either out of a disturbed sort of curiosity or as a means to display their power and superiority over what had been viewed as a primitive, lesser species. The offenders had been severely punished, of course - sexual assault in any degree was highly criminal for just about every species in Citadel space, and turians especially so given the methods typically employed in it. Too many times, the rapists had went a step further and torn into the throats of their victims, marking them in a mockery of mating rituals, and those individuals received the worst punishments. But even if action had been taken against the offenders, the fact couldn’t erase how regularly it had happened… nor take back the painful experiences the victims suffered through. 

“Even after the war was over… s-she was never the s-same.. dad... did his best to take care of us both, after I was.. was born.. But mom never… she always looked so…  _ dead _ inside. No light in her eyes… you know h-how fucked up it is, to never see your mother s-smile for fifteen years..? The doctors.. had been able to heal the marks on… on her neck and shoulder, but she always… scratched them bloody… s-saying she could still  _ feel _ them, still feel that fucking skull-faced bastard’s… t-teeth r-ripping into her..” 

Blood dribbled down the human’s lips as he went into a coughing fit, the sound of his wheezing almost too painful for Nihlus to bear. If they gave him more medigel and rushed him to the nearest colony for medical treatment, he may yet live… but a single glance over to the expression on his partner’s face, and Nihlus knew that would never happen. 

“S-She killed.. herself… I-I lost her only three.. y-years ago… and I’m not the.. the only one who did here… one guy’s dad was s-shot down at Shanxi… another’s uncle was on a ship that was blown o-out of the sky.. W-We all..”

“I’m…. sorry, human. Truly, I am… but no one can go back and stop the war from happening. And trying to take vengeance on a species twenty years after the fact will do nothing but bring the same pain and suffering back tenfold. Surely you can see that?” Nihlus asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper. 

“This is getting us nowhere,” Saren broke in, his voice so cold, so emotionless that Nihlus almost couldn’t hear how his subvocals were humming with an unnameable emotion. The older Spectre moved forward half a step, training the barrel of his gun on the human and tilting his head upwards, as if to further look down upon them. “Tell us where the prisoners from the freighter were taken. Now.”

The human just laughed again, before croaking out, “They’re already dead… if Cerberus has them. Y-You’ll never find them… b-besides.. even if I knew where… where they’d taken those birds, w-why the fuck would I… t-tell… you..”

“Then you’re no longer useful to us or this investigation.”

“Saren-” Nihlus began, but the rest of his words died in his throat as a gunshot rang out and blood soon splattered across the ground as the human’s head was blown off. For a moment, he couldn’t even breathe or think, the shock of it immobilizing him for as long as it took his eyes to take in the mangled corpse now laying where a living human boy had once been. But as soon as he regained control of himself, he rounded on his partner with a sudden fury, yelling, “What are you doing?!”  
  
“He would have died from his injuries either way. I simply sped the process along and granted him a quick death. It’s more than he deserved.” As if believing that settled the matter, Saren turned from both the corpse and Nihlus, slipping his pistol back into its slot as he walked away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -flops over- Have I mentioned I'm not only bad at action scenes but hate writing them?
> 
> Thank god we can go back to your regularly scheduled turian/human love affair after this


	10. Madness

“Hate to say it, but the kid was right…” Nihlus murmured, lowering the datapad and sighing. 

He spared a glance over to his partner, who was currently engrossed in his own copy of the information they had managed to gather before finally leaving the warehouse and cargo behind to be taken care of by local authorities. They’d made it back to the nearest colony almost two hours ago, each cleaning up from the recent battle and taking stock of their armory supplies before finally settling into the larger cargo hold of Saren’s ship, preparing to pour through the data and find out as much as they could about the entire series of events the merc group had been involved in before they put an end to it. If there was one thing Nihlus had picked up from his time training with Saren, it was to always compile a precise report of his activities and what had been learned, before forwarding it to the Council. 

Saren had donned drab black civilian clothes and a larger cowl, which now obscured much of his face from Nihlus’ view, making it impossible to see the man’s expression. Perhaps it was intentional, as his former mentor had barely spoken a word since they’d climbed into their rover back in the desert; it was a little too obvious to Nihlus that Saren was trying to avoid contact with him in any degree. Initially, he’d wondered if the older Spectre was angry with him for their disagreements in the warehouse… but after carefully watching him in secret for the past hour they had spent in silence, he had come to another conclusion.

Something the merc said had gotten to Saren. Nihlus wasn’t sure what, nor knew the why or how of it, but he recognized the signs of his old friend being deep in thought and not liking the subject he was chewing over. 

Sighing, Nihlus heaved himself up from his position on the floor, walking the few steps over to where the older turian sat upon a crate and plopping himself down next to the man. Saren gave no reaction save for a slight tilt of his head. “Even if the Council acted immediately on this, the prisoners taken from the freighter are long gone… and I’m not sure if they’d consider something as minor as a few missing crewmembers grounds for sending a Spectre after these Cerberus people. Likely will hand it over to local authorities in the area, or to the general turian military..”

“Hm,” was all he got in response from Saren - the man giving barely more than a droning sort of sound that was as noncommittal as it could get. Nihlus had to stop himself from getting irritated at the dismissiveness his friend was showing towards the situation, though his mandibles flicked sharply before he lifted the datapad up again and reclined back. 

A silence fell over them once more, as each sat and read through the remaining information for the next few minutes. Nihlus had brought up his omnitool midway through, typing in notes as he picked through a bunch of garbage data to find relevant lines and topics to send off in his report; it bathed the both of them in an orange glow, fighting off the shadows creeping in from all sides of the lonely cargo hold. Despite making the decision to hold his tongue on the subject of their recent battle and the investigation as a whole, Nihlus still couldn’t help glancing over to his friend now and again - watching the way Saren’s mandibles vibrated every so often, as if in response to something he was reading through… or perhaps brought on by whatever it was he was contemplating so deeply over. 

When he finally couldn’t stand the awkward atmosphere any longer, Nihlus changed gears and said, “That stunt you pulled up on the balcony was crazy, Saren. If you’d lost the shield for even a second, you would have gotten shredded. I applaud your talent, but it was a little… unexpected. And worrisome.” He flicked his eyes to the immobile Spectre. “I heard from Sparatus about how you’d been taking less.. risks, recently. Didn’t believe him at first, but then you compromised on how we were going to approach the warehouse, so I thought..”

“I know my own limits,” Saren replied gruffly, his voice a fair bit hoarse from underuse. Nihlus allowed a slight smile to escape as he lowered the datapad and reached a hand back behind him to lean upon. 

“If you say so. Like I said, worrisome as it was, it was still an impressive display. And you know I’ve always enjoyed watching you work, however, er….  _ violent _ and  _ explosive _ it can get.” The younger turian gave a shrug, even if Saren couldn’t see it. “But you’re keeping yourself safer because of her, aren’t you?”

“....” The sudden return of dead silence from his partner told Nihlus he’d hit the nail on the head. His smile widened, mandibles flaring outwards in amusement. 

“She’s good for you, you know? You’ve built a reputation for ruthless efficiency, but that was born from acts of recklessness and a high penchant for gambling with your own life. Sooner or later it would come back to bite you in the ass, especially with you getting older, Saren. Deny it all you want, but you know as well as I do that her influence is keeping you safer, having you approach things more carefully and with just as much caution as intelligence. As your friend, I can’t deny I’m grateful for it.”

_ And maybe one day you’ll learn to be a little less hostile towards humanity _ , he added in private. It was a vain hope, but especially after today’s events, Nihlus really wished to see this human woman help lessen some of Saren’s bitterness and resentment for the species. It would go a long way towards helping the Spectre finally move past the losses he suffered in the First Contact War, he felt, and instead look to a future where humans and turians worked together - defended one another as vehemently as they had defended their own species during the fighting over twenty years ago. 

Saren merely huffed, neglecting to respond with any sort of biting retort and instead simply turning his head from Nihlus. But the younger Spectre could tell he’d struck a nerve, and for a moment Nihlus couldn’t hold back the laugh bubbling its way up through his throat as he realized Saren was  _ embarrassed _ , of all things. The man’s subvocals sang with it all too clearly, and the picture of him now was reminiscent of a child pouting. 

Yes, that woman was definitely a good influence on the rough old bastard.

The man slipped off of the crate, tossing the datapad onto it and finally meeting Nihlus’ gaze for a moment, his eyes glittering out from under the length of his hooded cowl. Just as quickly, he turned away - still giving off an oddly subdued, self-conscious sort of air as he began making his way towards the elevator located in the back of the hold. Nihlus didn’t think to call to him, instead hiding a last lingering smile before gathering up his own datapad and following after at a leisurely pace; he couldn’t deny a small sense of smug satisfaction at seeing such a ruthless, frigid sort of individual like Saren reduced to little more than a blushing teenager from the mere mention of his girlfriend. 

A familiar chime sounded, and as he plodded along across the dark metal flooring of the deck, Nihlus saw the tell-tale orange glow of an omnitool flare up, barely obscured by the dark figure of his mentor looming at the elevator door. He smiled again, relatively confident in his assumption that it was an incoming message from the mystery woman. 

As he finally came to stand at Saren’s side, however, he noted the look of irritation on the man’s face. “Something wrong?” he asked, wondering if perhaps it was a correspondence from the Council or something equally unpleasant. Saren closed out his omnitool before the younger turian could get a look at it, shaking off the hand Nihlus had placed on his shoulder. 

“It’s nothing. Just an old annoyance from years ago rearing its head.”

Nihlus wasn’t given any more of an explanation than that.

* * *

  
“So you’ll accept the reassignment along with me?” Corona asked, voice barely hiding a relieved sort of excitement as she turned to stare up at Nova from where she sat at her terminal. The younger woman nodded, feeling a slight flush along her cheeks.

“I… thought it over, t-talked to a few friends… and I just..” Nova began, before pausing for a moment and mulling over her words. There was still a lot of hesitation in her voice, and she couldn’t help the fear clinging to the back of her mind as she thought over all the things she’d be leaving behind here on the  _ Hong Kong _ . It had only been a short few months since she was first assigned to the cruiser, but in that time she had made countless friends within the crew - many of whom she would miss dearly. And beyond that, the ship had become a sort of home for her. But recalling the words of Ennius, she had come to realize that even if she felt as close as she did to both the  _ Hong Kong _ and its crew… Corona was still more important to her, in the end. Family ties had mingled with that of friendship to forge an impossibly strong bond between the two of them, and as the young C-Sec officer had put it: “you may regret leaving the  _ Hong Kong _ for a few days, but you’d regret it for years if you don’t go with her.”

“I just.. would rather stay with you, ma’am. Er, C-Corona..” 

“I’m glad to hear it, Nova. Really, I am…” The commander stood from her chair, moving closer and patting a hand gently on the younger woman’s shoulder, giving Nova one of her usual bright smiles. This one was different, however.. her eyes smiled right along with it, but there was a strange sort of mixture in them, of equal parts relief and guilt. Nova couldn’t bring herself to return the gaze, though the corners of her lips did turn upwards in response to the woman’s own joy. She let herself be pulled into a quick hug. “Seriously, kid. This means a lot to me. Wasn’t sure if I’d be able to handle not being able to check in on you at any hour of the day.” 

Nova couldn’t help a shaky laugh at that, trying to fight back more tears that were trying to escape. She’d spent a little too much time crying over this whole situation, and especially didn’t want to start back up in front of her cousin. She was almost grateful that the embrace lasted no more than a few seconds before Corona released her again, moving a respectful distance away and giving her one last pat on the shoulder as she turned back to her terminal. Nova took the opportunity to wipe at her eyes - just to be safe.

“We’re already en route to Arcturus. The plan is to dock the  _ Hong Kong _ there, then have us meet up with Captain Anderson and the  _ Tokyo _ .” Corona flipped through a few screens, as if searching for something. Nova noticed the way she sucked in a cheek before blowing out a puff of air, lowering her hand from the holodisplay after a moment and simply… standing there, contemplative. When next she spoke, her voice had quieted a few octaves to barely above a whisper. “I suppose they’ll keep this ship stationed there until a replacement captain can be found. Tomorrow evening, I plan to let the crew know what’s going on.”

Nova bit her lip, fidgeting slightly. She could hear the guilty undertone lacing through the woman’s words, and couldn’t help feeling her chest tighten as she realized that regardless of the stoic, calm facade her cousin was trying to show… this was just as emotional for Corona as it was for her. 

Perhaps even more so. Corona had commanded this ship for nearly three years, after all.

Even so, the moment of weakness passed quickly. Corona looked back at her and fixed her with another easy smile, looking for all the world as if nothing was wrong - as if she wasn’t preparing to leave behind a ship she’d served on for years, and a crew who looked up to her both as a soldier and a friend. “You got a few duffel bags stowed away, right?” was all she asked, to which Nova nodded without saying anything. Corona returned it, still keeping up her carefree facade as she moved to the bed in the center of the room and kneeled down to pull out a few of her own bags. “Good. I’m giving you the rest of the evening shift off, Nova, so go ahead and start packing up any non-essentials. Will make it easier for us to get ourselves off the  _ Hong Kong _ and into the  _ Tokyo _ once we reach port.”

“Y-Yes ma’am. I’ll, um… g-get on that,” Nova responded, idly pulling at the hem of her shirt and shuffling awkwardly for a moment. Corona paid her no mind, at least.

“Alright. I’ll see you around dinnertime, kid, unless you have other plans. Same spot as usual,” the woman said, already moving about opening drawers and cabinets, pulling things out and unceremoniously shoving them into one of the duffels. She did spare one single glance back, her eyes finally looking a little less clouded with guilt as she joked, “Maybe we’ll be able to convince Jensen to take some chocolate cake out from under lock and key.”

*****

She’d barely even begun digging through her clothes before hearing a familiar ping from her omnitool. 

Nova didn’t even need to check it to know it was from Saren, but she dropped everything she was doing and called up the holodisplay, quickly navigating to her messages and reading through the response he had sent back. 

Just a few minutes before she had gone to inform Corona of her decision, Nova had typed out a long explanation of everything that had been going on - from the initial conversation with her cousin all the way to making up her mind as to what she planned to do. In all honesty, she had been quite nervous sending it; for as long as she had known the Spectre, Nova had almost always sought out his advice and opinion when faced with possibly life-changing events or decisions, and especially so when it pertained to her career in the Alliance. But she’d been unable to bring herself to reach out to him, having recalled the turian saying he’d be on assignment for at least a week and may be slow to respond - if he was able to at all. Bothering him about something that, realistically, should have been a private matter she mulled over on her own, had stayed her hand. And even now, she was surprised to have gotten a response so quickly. 

Anxiety reared its ugly head once more as she read a few simple lines:

_ I am not sure how to feel about this reassignment, but it involves a discussion I would rather not have over messages. Get yourself settled somewhere for a vidcall at your earliest convenience. _

_ We need to talk. _

It was with a shaky hand that she typed out a reply, letting him know she could sync up at this very moment - despite the pounding in her chest begging her not to jump right into it. Not but a few seconds later, she received his call request and accepted it without hesitation. And upon seeing the familiar silvery visage finally push through the brief period of static, Nova suddenly felt all her worries drift away. 

“Saren…” she whispered, his name falling from her lips like a prayer. She felt a flush rise over her cheeks as he gave a weak smile in response, heartbeat suddenly becoming confused as to whether it should speed up or slow down; in the end, it simply sputtered like the tendrils of a flame. And amid it all, Nova felt almost on the verge of tears as emotion surged through her. It had only been a couple of weeks since their last chance for a vidcall, and they had spoken numerous times since then through messages exchanged back and forth at all hours of the day - but somehow, it always felt like a lifetime had passed whenever she could see him again.

Almost forgetting the distance between them, she reached out towards the Spectre… only to have her fingers slip through the holodisplay and rupture the image, cruelly reminding her that she couldn’t take solace in his warmth. Murmuring an apology, she withdrew her hand and glanced away in embarrassment, feeling her face heat up as she heard him give a light chuckle. 

“ _ Amatra _ ,” he cooed, extending his own hand to idly run the tips of his talons just a hair’s breadth away from the screen of his own omnitool. The motion had Nova’s heart thumping against her ribcage, and in an effort to hide her blush, she made a show of trying to clamber onto her bed and pull the pillows up against the headboard to act as a backrest - pointedly avoiding his gaze the entire time. But she could feel those beautiful silver eyes burning a hole straight through to her core, laying her completely bare and exposed for the man she had given her heart to. Upon looking back to him sheepishly, feeling how red her face was now, Nova could have melted on the spot as he continued, “It’s good to see you again, Nova.” 

“A-And you… I’ve.. i-is it too early to s-say I’ve missed you?” she asked, letting out a shaky laugh and curling her legs close to her body as she settled in. Saren returned the quip with a flick of his mandibles, the motion following on the tailcoat of a tired sort of chuckle. 

“Perhaps, but I can’t deny it myself. It’s… good to hear your voice again. Today has been rather…” Saren paused, his words trailing off as he broke their gaze for a moment and looked away, as if searching for the proper phrase. Then, shaking his head, he continued, “Today has just been very tiring.”

Nova bit her lip, feeling an ache in her chest as she thought of how badly she wanted to reach to him, caress over the familiar tough, leathery cartilage of his face and kiss him - how desperately she wished she could take his mind off whatever had happened during the course of his investigation. But dwelling on what she couldn’t do would only serve to make them both miserable, so instead she asked, “C-Can I help in some way..? I-I know it… um.. it’s..”

“Just… speak with me, for a time. Let me focus on something besides this latest mission.” 

“O-Okay… I.. I can do that. Um.. d-do you want to t-talk about anything in p-particular..?” she asked, almost hesitantly leading him towards what he had alluded to in his response just a few minutes ago. The thought of it had her heart pounding with anxiety once more, but trying to avoid it just because it scared her wouldn’t be fair to either of them. However, Saren’s response was a little unexpected.

“No. Just talk about anything to me,  _ amatra _ . Talk about everything. Just… let me listen to you for a while.”

The old turian looked haggard, somehow, as Nova went quiet for a moment and ran her gaze all along his familiar lines and ridges. Allowing her the floor, he remained silent and simply leaned back in his seat, eyes staring out at her from underneath a larger cowl that cast much of his upper face in shadow. Nova couldn’t be sure, but she felt as if he hadn’t gotten much sleep in recent days.. or at least, that was what she  _ hoped _ had brought on the weary air surrounding her lover, rather than anything more worrisome. 

Once more, she was struck with a desire to reach out and embrace him, wrap her arms around his neck and draw him close so that they could focus on nothing else but each other; sadly, the dream would have to remain as such for now. Instead, Nova brought her omnitool screen closer, as if trying to deny the saddening distance lying between them.

“I-I… um.. w-well, we’re.. heading to Arcturus, I think. C-Corona gave me the rest of the evening off so I could start packing, um.. n-non-essential things. T-To make transferring ships easier when we arrive…”

“Mm…” Saren hummed, the sound somehow calming her even as Nova worried she was boring him. 

“I-I… I’m sorry f-for the.. the w-wall of text I sent you,” she continued, trying to keep a hold on her quivering voice yet failing at every turn. But Saren’s gentle smile told her he wasn’t bothered, and so she tried not to stress over it too much. He’d spent a year listening to her stammer like a child, after all, and had yet to get angry over it. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Nova. I only hope you can forgive me for being unable to discuss this recent development with you.”

“I know… i-it’s okay, you d-don’t have to… u-um..” She couldn’t help the embarrassed smile, hearing a low rumble from deep within her lover’s chest as he chuckled. 

“Spirits, you’re like a breath of fresh air,” he whispered, and it had her stomach doing acrobatics as the flush from before deepened another shade, spreading over to heat up her ears as well. For what felt like the thousandth time in just two short months, Nova wished so desperately to tell him how she felt - to utter those three tiny words that held such a huge outpouring of affection. 

But she couldn’t. Not yet, not with such a great distance separating them from one another and keeping her from his arms. 

It hurt, to be unable to say  _ I love you _ when every synapse in her body seemed to scream for her to, but Nova wanted that moment to be special. She wanted to be able to say it as she felt his familiar warmth under her palm - surrounding her with that same protective shield she had always felt from him, ever since she was a child. She wanted to run her fingers along his anterior fringe, ghost her lips across his mouth plates before finally whispering it against his aural canal, after a long night of passion which ended with them tangled up in one another and leaving no space between their bodies. Perhaps it was a naive wish, a cruel thing to want when she was so sure  _ right now _ of how she felt… but whether it be from one too many romance vids over the years, or simply a latent desire still left over from her naive dreams of a magical, intimate first time, Nova had forced herself to hold the words back. 

So in response, she leaned forward and kissed the screen - as well as one could when faced with a holodisplay, at least - withdrawing almost immediately in embarrassment but never breaking her gaze from Saren’s own. He smiled in response, and Nova could hear that same unusual hum from somewhere deep in his chest - his subvocals, singing with an emotion she was still struggling to place. 

But in a way, she didn’t need to understand in order to  _ feel _ . 

* * *

  
Initially, Saren had been preparing to barge into Nova’s evening, explain to her every irritation he had with her decision, and speak at length of his dislike of David Anderson - as well as bring up every instance over the past twenty years where the damnable human had attempted to bring charges against him for perceived slights against the Alliance. He had fully intended to ensure Nova walked away from the conversation with an agreement to interact with David Anderson as little as possible, if not completely forgo her plan to follow after Commander Shepard and be reassigned to Anderson’s ship alongside her. The idea of that man going anywhere near his woman filled Saren with a burning rage, a need to ship out at that exact moment and forcibly remove Nova from the Alliance, but he knew that was impossible; so if he couldn’t prevent her reassignment, he would at least ensure she avoided the human at all costs. 

But somehow, all thoughts of the topic disappeared entirely from his mind as he had looked upon his mate during those first few seconds of the call. 

And then her voice washed over him - timid, gentle as a summer’s breeze on Thessia and ghosting across his skin like a shard of silk. It was a wonder she hadn’t noticed his shudder at that moment, the way his very body lost control of itself in response to her beautiful utterance of his name. All he could do in response was call to her, desire and relief lacing through his words as he took in every inch of her face; her eyes were still that same brilliant green as always, dancing with tears and a smile that soon reached her quivering lips. 

“Is it too early to say I missed you?” she had asked, and it was all Saren could do not to let out a pathetic keen of longing in response. Instead, he tried to downplay the rush of emotion for her with a tired laugh. Spirits, but he suddenly felt all the adrenalin from the day’s fighting seep out of him as he looked upon his mate, leaving behind only the exhaustion that had plagued him for days now and grown worse after the resolution to Nihlus’ investigation. 

“It’s good to hear your voice again,” he said, mandibles flicking as he momentarily looked away from those endless green depths. He truly could drown within them if he allowed himself… on days such as this one, the idea had a certain sort of charm to it. “Today has just been very tiring.”

And then she said those tempting words; innocently asking if she could somehow help, all the while biting down on her lip in that oddly seductive habit he’d grown to enjoy during the past year. Thoughts took root in his mind at her question, desires lacing through his conscious mind to give delicious pictures of her on her knees, pleasuring him with her mouth as she’d done before - or perhaps even better, spread over a table with her back undulating below his hand as he took her like his own personal whore, the sound of her beautiful moans filling the silence within his ship. His plates began to part all too easily as the images played out behind his eyes, but just as quickly as he had jumped to the lascivious fantasies of pouring his seed inside her womb over and over, Saren found himself thinking of far more gentle things…. of her fingers tracing over the lines of his fringe as she pressed her forehead to his; her tiny body wrapped up against his own as they lay together in a warm glow; her kisses peppering across the front of his carapace in a sweet, delicate little dance.   
  
Spirits, she was everything he never knew he wanted. 

“Just… speak with me, for a time,” he said, gaze softening along with his voice as he looked upon her - his light, his madness, his  _ amatra _ . “Let me focus on something besides this latest mission.” And all too easily, she agreed - though immediately questioned if he had a particular subject he wanted to discuss, giving him all the power and decision in the conversation as she always did. Her deference to his own desires had always been something he enjoyed; it sent a swell of pride and importance through him, allowing him the pleasure of knowing there was at least one person in the galaxy who would do  _ anything _ for him, no matter what he asked of them. 

Yet at this moment, he almost wished she wouldn’t acquiesce to him so easily. 

“Talk about everything,” he told her, unable to keep the tired sigh from his voice. The words of that mercenary were still prickling in the back of his mind, irritating him with the questions brought to the forefront of his thoughts - and of the memories. He just needed to forget, to give his attention solely to his mate and allow that sweet voice to wrap around him as it had always done, to pull him into the depths of insanity where he could lay bare and exposed to the one woman in the galaxy who could somehow make everything right. Almost pleadingly, he said, “Just… let me listen to you for a while.”

And so she did. He responded to her when necessary, but for the most part simply let his woman speak without interruption, intently focusing on every inflection of her voice as words poured from those sensuous lips and floated into his ears, seeping into his very bones like some sort of ethereal massage. She spoke first of their destination: Arcturus, the Alliance’s largest deep space station and home to much of their fleet.. and an all but impregnable fortress, should he suddenly be struck with the desire to fly out and whisk her away from the place before she could ever set foot on David Anderson’s ship. But at her mention of the remainder of her evening being free, Saren’s mood lightened a bit. Between her having to grab dinner and he having to help wrap up the final reports with Nihlus, however, he knew they wouldn’t have as long to talk as he’d have liked, but the Spectre intended to make the most of their time together.

Next she apologized for her earlier message, seeming embarrassed at the length of it - her voice quivering with a familiar anxiety as she looked upon him. He spared her a smile, urging her to continue and silently assuring her that he wasn’t bothered by neither her message nor her stuttering. In all honesty, after having spoken with her like this for a year, he had grown to find it strangely attractive - a cute little quirk Nova had that had evolved from a mere annoyance to something he treasured about her. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Nova,” he told her, still with a gentle smile that pulled his mandibles outwards and was visibly acting as a salve for whatever worries she seemed to be having over him. “I only hope you can forgive me for being unable to discuss this recent development with you.”

Perhaps it was for the best he had not been available to her earlier in the day, when she had been mulling the decision over all on her own. In a state like that, he was sure he would have easily been able to convince her not to follow after her cousin’s reassignment, instead remaining on the  _ Hong Kong _ and continuing to be an easy extraction should he ever grow tired of waiting for her next shore leave. Much as that outcome would have been preferable to him… he knew his mate well enough by now to understand that being around her cousin while working in the Alliance was good for her - mentally and emotionally. He didn’t like it, of course, but until Saren was able to see her again and ensure she would never go back to the military, he had to get over the dark thoughts of jealousy and irritation that Commander Shepard’s presence incited in him, and instead remind himself that she at least kept Nova happy and protected while he was unable to. 

Spirits, she was maddeningly refreshing to him though, as she stumbled through a denial of his own apology, saying it was needless and in the end, drawing a laugh from them both. And Saren told her so, in a whisper bordering on reverence - enjoying the way her cheeks flushed dark with embarrassment and her eyes lit up with…  _ something _ . That same emotion that had engulfed them both, during those last two days together, and made his chest ache with something unfamiliar; a heavy weight threatening to cave in his carapace. And then, watching in silence as Nova moved closer towards her screen and placed a light kiss upon it, the pain only worsened. Yet through it all, Saren still managed a smile - a gentle, appreciative,  _ real _ smile that paved the way for the hum of longing that spilled from his subvocals as he watched her shift slightly, looking for all the world like she wanted to hide herself away… but not once did she break from his gaze. 

He wondered, for what felt like the thousandth time since their parting, whether he could survive without her much longer. 

But putting aside his own feelings, his own madness and weakened state, Saren urged her to keep talking - not caring what she spoke of, merely wanting to do nothing more than sit and  _ listen _ . And like always, she was obedient; it was slow at first, but eventually Nova was able to launch into various sorts of one-sided discussions, with him hardly speaking except to respond to her direct questions or comments. Saren would never tire of the sound of her voice, and for some reason, the day’s events seemed to make him even more attentive - his focus entirely upon her as he seemingly tried to commit her every inflection to memory, filing them away alongside those of her moans as he took her. And Nova gave him plenty to remember; she spoke of her worries over the reassignment, recent conversations with her cousin or other crewmembers, even about dreams she recalled with some clarity - many of which, Saren noted with satisfaction, heavily involved him. 

It was just as well, too.. for he couldn’t deny seeing her every night when he closed his eyes, feel echoes of her body against his own as a shadow descended upon him and whisked him off to be with her for however brief a period of time he allowed himself to sleep. It was comforting, somehow, to think that she felt something similar - perhaps they met every night in their dreams, escaping back to one another for as long as the darkness would let them. He had to fight off a laugh at how ridiculous he was being, but the idea was a pleasant one. Judging by the watery-eyed smile she gave, Nova was probably thinking the same thing. 

He drifted, sometimes. In and out of attentiveness, always listening to her voice but often not registering the words she spoke, or the topic that had been brought up. For the most part, Nova either didn’t notice or didn’t mind - continuing to speak with a shy, yet animated vivacity, as if she’d been holding all of this back for days. Saren didn’t even care that much of what she talked about were mundane recollections of her daily life aboard the starship; in a way, it made him feel closer to her, more a part of her life despite the light years lying between them. And so he sat quietly, watching her the entire time with a gentle gaze and a slight outward tilt of his mandibles. Not once did he allow himself to think of anything besides  _ her _ ; Saren pushed aside all thoughts of Nihlus, of the investigation, of the report to Sparatus, even of the uncomfortable thoughts and questions brought to his mind by that lone mercenary he had killed in cold blood. He systematically erased all distractions both within and without, leaving only the picture of his  _ amatra _ \- beautiful, fragile, and looking decidedly all-too-tempting in her tight-fitting Alliance fatigues.

He couldn’t help asking her to strip out of them, midway through a story about something having gotten lost in the ventilation shaft on the command deck only to have been found a week later in engineering. Not that Saren had really cared to hear the end of that, but after seeing the blush rise on his mate’s face at his request and her babbling stutter to a jarring stop, he apologized all too quickly. But as always, she wasn’t bothered - embarrassed, more than anything, yet without even a moment’s hesitation she started undoing the zippers along her top and wiggled out of it to leave herself in nothing but a loose-fitting cropped shirt. Saren felt a growl rising in his throat as he took in how the simple black fabric could barely hold her breasts inside, following along the line of her cleavage before flicking his eyes back to her own, silently prompting her to continue pulling off those damn Alliance blues. 

Blue always did look nice on her, but he was more interested in the pale silk beneath. 

And she gifted him what he desired, stripping away her slacks with a deep flush and an avoidance of his gaze as she settled back against her pillows, long legs drawn up to her chest and pressed tightly together. Saren let the appreciative rumble escape now, as he took in the full length of her skin. Plates parted, and he felt the uncomfortable tightening in his pants as he finally caught his mate’s eyes and brought them back to him; they seemed to almost glow amid the red splash across her face, threatening to drown him all too easily. 

“S-Saren, I… I-I can’t.. d-do.. d-do that tonight…” she murmured, voice shaking so much that he almost forgot how distant she was from him as he reached towards her, only to have his talons slip through the holoscreen. He withdrew, frustrated; it was maddening, to see her so open and bare to his eyes yet be unable to touch her, to tempt her into bed and ravish her one more time… but Saren quickly shook the irritation away, instead tilting his head to the side in a silent question. Nova bit her lip - all-too-slowly, too sensuously despite it being an ingrained habit - and tried to continue with, “W-What we.. w-what we did before, w-when you… a-and I… um..”

“Ah,” he finally said, understanding her meaning even without the added motioning towards her near-naked form. He couldn’t help the tired chuckle in response, though reigned it in as soon as he saw her expression morph into guilt. Leaning closer and ignoring the ache in his chest and the throbbing of his member, Saren tried to comfort her, to belay her fears that somehow she would anger him. “Much as I would enjoy seeing you pleasure yourself for me,  _ amatra _ , I will not force it upon you. Just… allow me to enjoy you. Your body, your voice.. please keep talking. Help me forget today..”

She was silent for a moment, save for a small whimper that sent a shiver across his spine. But he could see a searching look in her eyes, the way they quivered slightly as he held them and fought against the temptation of those deep emerald waters; he knew she was curious,  _ worried _ , yet was holding back for his sake. Spirits, but he didn’t deserve a woman like her - and the fact that even now, he tried to push aside any thoughts of speaking to her of the day’s events, made Saren feel all too guilty for hiding things from her. She was his mate, after all… shouldn’t he always be open with her? 

Nihlus had said so, at least. But Saren was finding it difficult to actually do, no matter how much he may want to at times. 

Finally, she seemed unable to remain quiet any longer, asking, “D-Did something happen…? A-Are you okay, Saren?”

He gave a short sigh, a part of him feeling almost grateful for her working up the courage to pry… yet at the same time, he felt his paranoia coming back, locking down on his words and leaving Saren unable to even speak for a moment. All he managed to give in response was a flick of his mandibles, brow plates lowering apologetically. 

It was a simple enough question, yet the answer was anything but. Nova deserved to know, however - she was his woman, his companion, and ever since that night he had told her the story of how he lost his brother, it had become almost a compulsion to talk to her about everything.. from the mundane to the horrifying. His complete willingness to do so was actually frightening; Saren had never confided in anyone, had always kept his secrets close and guarded even from Nihlus, his only friend. To now be so willing to spill every dark thought, every sordid tale and embarrassing moment he had ever encountered in his life to a single woman.. and it was maddening that he did, for afterwards there was always the sick feeling in his gut and the paranoia-induced worry of possible consequences in the future. 

Yet as always, he somehow began to speak without any thought, “I just… dealt with something unpleasant, during the investigation. A mercenary who had it out for my entire species.”

“W-What?”

“My former protegé was tasked with an investigation involving a turian freighter carrying multiple shipments of eezo and other expensive cargo, which had been attacked by what, at the time, had appeared to be a well-organized and deadly strike team. Every crewmember on the ship had been killed… save for those who had been spaced - or so we thought.” Why was he telling her any of this? At best, it would simply worry her and make her anxiety all the worse the next time he conducted an investigation of his own. At worst.. 

“We uncovered the name of the mercenary group who had attacked the freighter and stolen the cargo, and tracked them to a small human colony world here in the Verge. But they were sloppy… too many amateur mistakes, and when we finally confronted them today, they were unorganized and far too easy to take down. Nothing like the strike team that would have been needed to systematically kill off an entire ship of turian crewmen.”

“They w-were u-used as.. a c-cover for the r-real killers?” 

“Of a sort, yes,” he said, unable to help the sad smile as he was reminded of just how perceptive his little pet was. She was far more intelligent than she let on, and it would serve her well as she continued on with her path in the military.. that is, if he didn’t convince her to leave within the next year. But putting those thoughts aside, he continued, “The group had been hired to provide a distraction from the operations of the true culprits - a pro-human organization called Cerberus. I suppose they had their reasons for using this group of bumbling idiots. The entire gang was encompassed of people who had lost something - whether it be family, friends, loved ones - in the First Contact War. Anti-alien sentiment was an integral part of their makeup… not that it helped them, in the end.”

“.... Anti-alien..?” She shook her head, as if unable to believe such a thing was still possible in today’s world. “H-How can there still be...” 

“It isn’t as outlandish a situation as you may think..” he whispered, feeling a measure of guilt lacing through his words. After all, there were still plenty of anti-human sentiments present within the various species in Council space.. and he numbered highly among them. 

Seeing the way her lip quivered, Saren watched in silence as she bit down on it and held in whatever thoughts may have been about to slip past. He had spoken with her - however briefly - about her feelings over non-humans, unsurprised to find she saw nearly all species in a positive light, even if her bias towards his own was painfully obvious. Even so.. the thoughts that had been plaguing him since listening to the merc’s rant came to the forefront of his mind again, begging questions he had buried away and intended to keep silent from her. 

“Nova..” he began, after another moment’s pause. 

Reaching forward, Saren gently brushed the tips of his talons just a hair’s breadth from the holodisplay, his gaze softening as it roamed across every inch of his mate’s uncovered body. He followed the curve of her thighs - slim and all too easy to cling to when he was pumping between her legs, the very sight of them uncomfortably reminding him of the scars hidden away by the healing miracle of medigel. They led him down to the perfect roundness of her ass, which led up to her wide-set hips - also a good place to grasp as he took her, and yet another part of her skin which held many scars from the way he had dug talons into her soft, supple flesh.. like an animal tearing into their prey. It was a pity her anatomy was so perfectly designed for childbearing… a waste, really, given her inclinations towards a species she could never procreate with. 

Eventually, he let his eyes travel up the length of her side, barely hidden away by her bent legs - though soon, she lowered them and spread herself more comfortably on the bed, as if somehow sensing his need to drink in every curve, groove, and dip that made up the body he had used up time and again. Saren knew there was a hunger in his eyes, however hidden behind the shadow of his cowl as they were, yet he didn’t let the knowledge stop him from continuing his journey upwards and to her breasts. They were as heavy and immense as always, all-too-easily allowing his mind to strip away the flimsy fabric of her cropped tank and see the entirety of them hidden away, the perfect roundness to them. Her every breath sent her chest heaving with it, subtle movements that let him imagine the softness of them in his palm - overflowing around his talons, squishing and undulating as he massaged them amid her delicious whines of pleasure. 

And then he finally returned his gaze to the face that had haunted his dreams for months now; Saren took in everything, from the pouty fullness of her pink lips to the little discolored dots creating a small ocean across her cheeks and nose.. and finally, his eyes found hers again. The emerald depths trapped him, just as they always did - and he allowed it to happen, letting them draw him closer, pull him towards her like a man enraptured by a siren’s song. 

Spirits, but she was perfect. So very often could he forget she was human. 

Yet as her gaze softened amid his own, a flush returning to her cheeks as his eyes glinted like a predator beneath his cowl, Saren remembered the infernal questions. And he was afraid; afraid to lose this attentive, maddeningly beautiful woman to his own bullheaded fixation on questions that still had no true answers. 

But he spoke: “Do you ever regret our meeting?”

His voice held no strength to it as he asked the first hesitant query - barely more than a whisper uttered in the darkness. The hand which had been caressing so lovingly over the screen stalled, soon withdrawing almost guiltily as he watched her expression. At first, she showed only confusion - to be expected, given the suddenness of it. But Saren winced as he saw it morph into shock, then finally to distress. 

“W-Why would you… H-How can you a-ask me that, Saren…?” she began - her own voice trembling and weak, as if the very thought of it was enough to knock the wind from her lungs. Immediately, he moved to repair whatever damage had already been done, hearing the undertone of anger and disbelief lacing through his mate’s words. His subvocals hummed in apology, even if he knew they were all but useless - Saren had slowly been teaching her how to read them, but Nova was still a long ways off from understanding all the subtle nuances that a fellow turian would quickly pick up on. 

“I’m sorry,  _ amatra _ , I didn’t mean to upset you..” he began, brow plates lowering as his expression crumpled. He gave a short sigh, running a hand over his face and trying to work out how best to explain himself without making things worse. And then he heard the few words that could chill his blood and freeze his bones to ice. 

“D-Do you… r-regret it..?”

“No,” he responded, voice just as icy as the feeling in his veins. Immediately, his body heated up once more as he saw her wince, heard the scared whimper in response to his tone. Spirits, he was already making a right mess of things. Giving himself a moment to reign in his emotion, Saren continued, “No,  _ amatra _ \- I don’t regret meeting you. That isn’t what this is about.. so please…”

“... I-I’m.. sorry..” she said, after a brief pause in which she pulled her gaze from his and bit down upon her lip, once more curling herself against the wall of pillows set up behind her. He hated to see that; Saren wanted to be  _ closer _ to her, to leave no distance between them save for the unavoidable span of light years separating them from one another… to see her withdraw was as good as a dagger being worked into his ribcage. Sparing him one further glance before burying her face in her knees, Nova whispered, “I-I shouldn’t have.. I-I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t a-assume the worst..”

“No, you have every reason to be upset… I should be the one apologizing. This is… difficult for me, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t.. can’t properly convey my intent.” Saren let out another sigh, mandibles flicking in irritation as he once more ran a hand over his face. She didn’t look up despite his words, and it only made thinking all the more difficult for the pangs of regret beating against his carapace. Yet he pressed on, “I ask due to some… uncomfortable reminders that were brought back to the forefront of my mind today. Things that make.. or rather,  _ could _ make this…  _ relationship _ difficult for us, moving forward..”

“... Saren..?” she asked, after a brief silence. He was relieved to see brief flashes of green peer out in curiosity as she urged him to continue.

“... Our two species still.. hold much animosity towards one another. There is less hostility than years before, of course, and much as I usually loathe to think upon it, couplings such as ours are becoming more… commonplace.” He waited to gauge her reaction, feeling his muscles tensing in worry and his breath hitching - things that, before she walked into his life, had been altogether unfamiliar and rare to experience. But then, that could be said for many things. “However, the general public for both of our species seem… against these relationships. Some try to laud them as humanity and the Turian Empire finally coming together as a cooperative unit, putting the past behind them and looking towards the future. Others, however..” 

He recalled a news vid he had seen once, a good two years ago while visiting with Nihlus. At the time, he had paid it little mind - merely expressed his own opinion on the proceedings, which had covered a scandalous affair between a human prostitute and a renowned turian general.. one who had been married with two children, all of whom lived within the Citadel alongside him. The general public for both turians and humans had put down each of their respective species, calling them race traitors and demonizing their interactions with the other, all the while attempting to use the sordid mess as leverage for their own anti-intermingling agenda. Nihlus hadn’t been too enthusiastic about the scandal, citing how unfair the reporters were being and angered at the demoralizing treatment of the couple, all the while tempering his argument with sympathy for the general’s family. Saren, of course, had agreed wholeheartedly with the slandering coverage thrown against the both of them. 

Ironic now, that only a short time later he was falling into bed with a human girl young enough to have been his daughter in another life. A rendezvous which had culminated in the events of only a few months ago - where once more, they partook of one another’s bodies with a zealous, desperate sort of passion; a coupling which now had Saren swimming through the depths of madness, completely entranced by the woman he wanted to own for the rest of their lives. 

“T-That’s why you’ve.. o-or.. w-well, it’s.. p-part of why you never…”

“... Why I never wanted to make our relationship public, yes… my primary reasons are still grounded in the fact it’s for your own protection, as well as mine, but… yes, Nova. I’ve seen examples of fallout when a high-profile turian begins an affair with a human, and it… is also a contributing factor to my decision.”

“... Are you ashamed of me..?” 

“.... I don’t know,” he admitted, wincing as the words escaped. But it was simply the honest truth, no matter how much it pained him to say; Saren cared for her, he knew that much, but ever since they had first met at the bar in Chora’s, he had held an almost crippling fear of someone finding out about her. Nihlus, random politicians, Sparatus - the list seemed to grow every day, without an end in sight… it wasn’t fair to her, nor to the relationship they were trying to build out of the mess that had originally brought them together, but the paranoia would not leave him. 

Even so, he felt his heart nearly stop in the brief moment of silence that pressed down upon them. 

“But…” he sighed, pulling away the cowl which obscured much of his face in shadow. It was time to stop hiding away from her, to come clean on how he felt.. or at least belay any fears she still held. “What I do know is you are.. important to me. More so than anyone I’ve ever known, perhaps.. perhaps even more so than my brother. And regardless of any external forces which may work against us, I refuse to let you go. You’re  _ mine _ , Nova. And whether it comes to light that I am ashamed of you or not, I want you to remember this.”

“... S-Saren..”

“You are mine. And I will never let another have you. Perhaps one day, I.. I will be able to parade you around and feel satisfaction at the looks of jealousy and envy from your species, as they watch you walk at my side, your hand upon my arm. Perhaps one day, I will be able to rub our coupling in the faces of any who would deny it, without feeling…” he trailed off, seemingly unable to find the right words. Saren’s mouth opened and closed, struggling.. but in the end, he simply ran a hand across his face once more and heaved a tired sigh, finally looking back into the eyes of his mate. 

“... I-I wish I was.. with you right now,” he heard her whisper, and the sheer fragility of her voice made a pathetic keen tear from his subvocals without even a chance for him to silence them. Before he could even begin to formulate a response, Nova shook her head and rubbed at her eyes, wiping away the stray tears that had escaped to streak down her face. “I-I feel l-like.. e-everything is harder now, w-without… I’ve f-felt so heavy ever s-since w-we separated on the Presidium..”

“... As have I,” Saren responded, his own voice cracking with guilt as that same suffocating pressure returned to his chest; that which had plagued him for days after watching her walk away, and return to a life that, at the time, he couldn’t bear to force her out of.. Saren was all too glad to have emptied his ship of any alcohol, for the temptation to drown the pain away at the bottom of a bottle of rum slammed into him with little warning. Once more, he reached out towards his insanity, his disaster of a mate - and sighed with relief as she, too, moved her hand closer. Gently, they pressed their palms outward against the very edge of their respective holoscreens - silently denying the distance keeping them apart in a single moment of silent companionship. 

“These worries would be much easier to discuss, were you here with me.. wouldn’t they?”

“... I don’t know..” she said, mirroring his earlier statement - albeit with guilt being replaced by a heavy melancholy. Nova closed her eyes, freeing Saren all too violently from their beautiful emerald depths, leaving him bereft and adrift in a cold tundra without the warmth of her gaze upon him. “I-I just… I just..”

_ I need you _ , she seemed to say, her lips quivering until she bit down on them and stilled the unwelcome motion. Saren could only dip his head in response, a pathetic attempt to apologize for everything - for this whole upsetting conversation, for making her cry yet again like some brute.. for ever letting her leave his arms. 

Spirits, he needed her too. Deeply, maddeningly so - he would drown in pain without her near him. Fear of the unnameable emotions she incited within him had long given way to the ache, the longing for Nova’s  _ everything _ . And Saren couldn’t stand this helplessness; it choked the life from him, filled him with anger and frustration at being so completely useless to the one person in the entire damn galaxy who could make him feel… feel like nothing more than another man. A man, a normal person - not the ruthless killing machine he had turned himself in to in order to escape his grief, to numb the pain. 

He should have been doing everything in his power to comfort her. But Saren was able to do little more than sit in silence, surrounded on all sides by the lonely darkness of his ship - unable to touch her, unable to draw her into his arms and make all her worries, all her tears, all her nightmares disappear under the blanket of sweet pleasure as he worshipped her.

Neither of them could take this separation much longer, he knew; but Saren had realized, within the first week of their parting, that he would truly drown in madness were this to continue on. 

And so he spoke to her in a hushed whisper, a promise kissed upon her brow, “I will make sure we can be together again soon, my  _ amatra _ .” Whether by the sheer sound of his voice, or the determined tone riding upon his words, Nova finally returned her gaze to his - bathing him in the softness of those damnable green eyes once more. Saren stroked a talon along the curve of her cheek as he stared at her for a moment longer, his jaw setting and strength rushing back into his muscles as her attention seemed to revitalize him. 

Even if he had to storm Arcturus Station itself; even if he had to stalk down Anderson’s ship and ambush it like a predator devouring its prey; even if he would anger her, clash with her for a time over the decision… no matter what, Saren would figure out something,  _ anything _ to bring Nova back to his side.   
  
“Leave everything to me.”


	11. Reassignment

_ 2 Days Later _

 

“Approaching Arcturus Station. ETA to docking, fifteen minutes.”

Nova saw the commander nod out of the corner of her eye. Then the woman said, with a strong tone of authority, “See if you can get Anderson on the comm, let him know we’re on our way. Keep her steady, Patricks.”

“Aye aye, ma’am,” the pilot said, giving a curt salute to her before focusing his attention back onto the navigational displays. Corona turned and caught Nova’s gaze, giving a slight jerk of her head down the corridor leading away from the cockpit - a silent order to follow her. 

“All your things packed up and ready to move, lieutenant?” Corona asked her, as the two of them made their way towards the CIC. She didn’t look back at the younger woman, but Nova gave a nod even so and punctuated it with a sound of affirmation. Staring up at the back of the commander’s head, Nova saw her return it. “Good. I’ll see if I can’t pull anyone away for a bit to help us pack everything up on a mobile loader, so go ahead and get down to your quarters.”

“Yes ma’am..”

They walked along in silence for another moment, giving slight tilts of their head in acknowledgement of the salutes from some of the crew milling about and doing final preparations for docking. Nova sometimes watched their expressions as they turned away, wondering how it was possible for everyone to suddenly be so calm and unaffected by their impending leave. Just a day before, when Corona had made the announcement at dinnertime to the majority of the crew, there had been a good round of surprised and upset responses. Some of the rougher men from maintenance even swore, letting their anger take over before it fizzled out into despondency at a single look from the commander. As it was to be expected from a crew who had served under her for years, there had been a lot of confusion and hurt at the fact she was being reassigned - and seeming to accept such a reassignment with little outward regret for leaving them all behind. But as the night had wore on, the fact was slowly accepted… and many had even stepped forward to apologize to Corona for their behavior. 

In the end, everyone seemed able to play the part of a stoic soldier. Nova couldn’t help wondering if it was merely because everyone aboard the  _ Hong Kong _ had served much longer than she, or if it was something which had developed in response to having Corona as a captain. Perhaps a little of both. 

As the two of them slipped into the elevator, she glanced back up at her cousin; Corona’s face had suddenly lost any semblance of strength, as the doors closed behind them. Instead, Nova could see the guilt back in full force, make out the dark circles forming under her cousin’s eyes from where the woman had been putting aside sleep just in order to make the transition as smooth as possible for everyone - them and the crew both. When Nova reached over and placed a hand on the woman’s arm, an attempt at comfort and solidarity, Corona looked to her with a wan smile. 

“Still not too late to change your mind, Nova. I know this has been hardest for you..”

“I’m f-fine, ma’am. Er, C-Corona..” Nova responded, biting her lip and letting her arm fall back to her side. Hearing the woman give a quiet, hollow laugh, she tried to insist, “R-Really, I am! I-It’s just all the p-packing, and.. goodbyes…” 

There was another element contributing to her unbalanced emotional state besides simply those things, but Nova neglected to bring it up. The two of them had more than enough to worry about without her trying to ask for advice on how to deal with the worries Saren - “Servius” - had brought up… and those he had left undiscussed. 

She had been left with more questions than answers, after that night - and a heavy weight upon her heart as she agonized over what other possible worries he had meant to speak to her about, what else concerned him about their relationship moving forward. But for the remainder of the vidcall, Saren had insisted on avoiding any such topics - instead saying he wished to enjoy her presence, to speak with her about more pleasant things and listen to her voice. Embarrassingly enough, they had both forgone dinner and other responsibilities in order to stay with each other just a little while longer… and one thing led to another, ending up with them pleasuring themselves for one another despite Nova having said she’d be unable to. 

Yet the way Saren had looked at her.. her heart had felt ready to burst from her chest, between the way his expression fell with guilt, how weak and haggard he had looked after their discussion.. and yet still trying to appear so  _ strong _ for her, so in control. She knew it was inevitable things would end up like they did - with her eyes shut tightly as she roamed fingers around her entrance, trembled from the feeling of them inside her as Saren’s grunts and low growls danced in her ear. And every time she chanced a glance to him, to the man she could only imagine was there with her and breathing down her neck as he thrust into her, Nova had felt herself flushing at the sight of her love bent over the desk he’d been sitting at until then, hand at his groin and sliding along the length of his shaft in time with her fingers. 

She hardly broke from her recollection as the elevator gave a quiet ping to signal its arrival at their destination. Without a thought, she merely mumbled out an agreement at Corona’s suggestion to meet up outside the door to her and Julia’s shared quarters within the next ten minutes. Afterwards, she simply wandered down the corridor and returned her thoughts back to the Spectre. As she palmed the door control and stepped through Julia’s empty room, Nova thought on the messages sent back and forth between them after that night - all of which had been nothing more than pleasantries and idle chat, with Saren asking her simple questions about what she had been doing that day and inquiring after their progress towards Arcturus. No further mention of his worries, of the discussions he wished to have regarding them, nor even of their night together just a day prior. 

“Nova?” a familiar voice called, breaking her out of her upsetting reverie and drawing the woman’s gaze to Julia’s figure standing in the doorway to her side of the room, shuffling her feet slightly as if unsure whether she was allowed to come in. Nova tried to paint a carefree smile on her face; it was both an attempt to hide the storm raging in her mind, as well as put the lieutenant more at ease and appear stronger than she felt about this entire reassignment business. 

“Hey, Julia… s-sorry, it’s kind of a mess in here.. c-come on in,” Nova told her, leaning down for a moment and heaving the largest of her bags up onto the bed with a grunt. Turning back to the lieutenant, who had now stepped over the threshold but remained a good distance away, she asked, “What’s up?”

“Just thought I’d come see you one last time, before you and the commander ship off. The crew isn’t going to have much of a chance for any more goodbyes before you two are heading out..” the woman responded, trying to return Nova’s smile - though like her own, it was a bit forced. But Julia’s eyes were kind and understanding as she said, “It’s funny.. you’ve only been here for a few months at most, whereas we’ve served under the captain for years, yet I feel like I’m going to miss you more. Is that weird?”

“N-No… no, I.. I don’t think so.”

Julia gave a slight shrug, the smile fading for a second before she fixed it back in place and moved closer, extending her hand towards Nova. Without a second thought, Nova reached out and clasped it in her own, the two of them giving a gentle, albeit formal, shake. Then Julia was pulling her close, offering her free arm as if seeking permission - which Nova granted without a word, stepping into the hug and returning it just as fiercely; she heard a melancholy laugh echo from Julia’s lips. 

“Wish you’d stay… but I understand you have to do this. You’re really strong, Nova - you know that?” 

Nova gave her a quizzical look as they finally parted, which only served to drag a much lighter, warm chuckle from the other lieutenant. Julia stepped back a few paces, giving her some respectful distance and releasing Nova’s hands from her own, her smile no longer forced and with a genuine compassion in her eye that made Nova’s chest clench with guilt. 

“Just… Mindoir, what happened to your parents.. and being a biotic, having to deal with either hiding a part of yourself from others or be on the receiving end of humanity’s mistrust, sometimes..” Lieutenant Davis gave another pop of her shoulders, as if unsure how better to put it. “Yet you still signed on to the Alliance, when you could have done anything you set your mind to… something permanent, immovable; a place you could go to every day and feel safe in, provide for yourself with. I just.. feel like there’s a certain kind of strength, in choosing a life like this despite everything you’ve gone through.” 

The confession - if it could be called that - took Nova by surprise. 

For a long moment, she could scarce think of anything to say in response, feeling a lump forming in her throat and that nagging prickle of guilt eating away at her; it was even harder than she’d first believed, to be on the cusp of leaving behind everyone on the  _ Hong Kong _ , of saying goodbye to all the wonderful friends she’d made here in just the span of a few months.. especially Julia. Staring up at her now, Nova suddenly thought over every interaction she’d ever had with the woman - from the moment they met, through to the present. After learning of her and Corona’s familial connection, Nova was ashamed to say that Lieutenant Davis had taken a back seat to the commander’s presence, becoming more of a friend she spoke to every now and then while going to and from their shared quarters, rather than the steady, constant companion that Corona had become to her. Yet now, remembering every idle bit of chatter between them, every shoulder to cry on and kind, supportive hand on her shoulder.. Nova felt tears sting at her eyes, quickly turning and pretending to adjust something on her duffel bag in an effort to hide them away from the other woman.

“Well, don’t mean to keep you. Oh!” Nova chanced to look back in response to the lieutenant’s exclamation, relieved to see her focusing on something beyond the doorway to her side of the room and taking the opportunity to quickly rub away the moisture in her eyes with the back of her sleeve. A moment later, Julia turned to her and gave another somber smile. “Looks like the commander’s ready to pick you up anyway. But, Nova?” 

“Y-Yes?” she asked, attempting to pull the lighter of her bags over her shoulder, but stopping short as Julia reached into the pocket of her slacks and handed her a little box. Nova took it after a moment’s hesitation, all the while keeping her eyes focused on the lieutenant - hoping her question could be understood without being said aloud. Julia simply let go of the box with a wink.

“Something I’d been meaning to save for your birthday, but guess now’s better - deliveries between ships are a nightmare to deal with in customs. I… guess I’ll see you, Nova.” Julia gave an awkward half-wave, looking almost unsure of what to do now that the time had come to really say goodbye. In an effort to help, Nova reached out with her free hand and clasped the woman’s tightly, comfortingly - smiling as brightly as she could, attempting to convey something along the lines of  _ It’s okay, we’ll see each other again _ .. though she couldn’t tell how convincing it was. But the smile that split over Julia’s expression seemed satisfied enough, and she gave one final little laugh. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get stationed at the Citadel for a while. Then you and I could have lunch sometime, if the  _ Tokyo _ ever swung around to that end of the galaxy.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nova responded, returning the smile and the chuckle. 

Corona stepped in at that moment, looking somehow sheepish - as if she wasn’t wanting to intrude on the personal farewells. To her credit, Julia simply gave a perfect salute to the red-haired soldier, snapping off a “We’ll miss you, ma’am, take care out there” before nodding her head slightly and slipping away. Corona returned the gesture as she passed behind through the portal, then promptly fixed her gaze on Nova and tried to give a cheeky sort of grin, approaching and testing the weight of the heavier bag.

Letting out a whistle, she said, “Damn, Nova, what do you have stuffed in here? Bricks?”

The younger Shepard merely smiled, flushing a little in embarrassment. “N-Not quite, b-but..”

With little effort, Corona slung it across her shoulder and turned to grab another one before Nova stopped her, insisting she could carry the rest on her own. And so the two of them spent a minute moving all of her belongings out of the shared space, pulling them all onto a stretcher that Corona must have commandeered from the medbay for repurposing as a bag carrier. As the last of the duffels were set upon it, the woman turned to Nova with a heavy sigh; her eyes briefly looked past the younger woman, gazing around at the corridor as if she was committing every inch of it to memory.. all the while looking far too melancholy. But soon, Corona returned attention to her, smiling a little and nodding her head down towards the direction of the elevator.

“Ready to head out, kid? Said all your goodbyes, got everything? Are you still sure about this?”

Nova gave an affirmation with a simple bob of her head. 

“Aye aye, ma’am.”

* * *

  
The view from Arcturus Station was spectacular.

Nova couldn’t help pausing by one of the large windows set into the docking cradle, captivated by the sight of the Alliance’s fleet shimmering like the fires of victory in the light of the system’s sun. Numerous ships of all shapes, sizes, and designations drifted within the cold darkness of space, surrounding the vast station like knights from the medieval ages of Earth - stoic, always watchful and ever ready to jump to the defense of the station without a moment’s hesitation. It was breathtaking, to view such a scene, and Nova possibly would have remained rooted to the spot had Corona not tapped her shoulder, urging her forward with a careful hand at her elbow. 

Reluctantly, Nova fell in step beside her cousin, still letting her gaze wander to any further viewports they passed by as the two of them made their way out of the  _ Hong Kong _ ’s docking bay and into the primary corridor leading further into the station itself. Their destination would not lead them through to the base, of course - instead, they followed along the lane, putting more and more cradles between them and their former home as Corona lead the way down to bay B-27, pushing along the commandeered stretcher laden with every last bit of their luggage. Out of the corner of her eye, Nova saw the commander turn to her every now and then. But their walk through the docking corridor was silent. 

An Alliance officer stood near one of the cradle airlocks, perking up at their approach and raising a hand to his ear - soundlessly murmuring something to whoever was on the receiving end of his communicator. When Corona stepped forward, he snapped off a crisp salute. 

“Commander Shepard, I presume?” the man asked, lowering his arm after Corona returned his gesture. She gave a single nod, to which the man responded with just the hint of a smile - barely noticeable before it disappeared under his neutral, stoic soldier facade. His eyes wandered from the older woman to Nova; she had to force herself not to fidget as his gaze roamed across the length of her figure, the odd glint in his eye making her feel more than a little uncomfortable. Almost unconsciously, she relaxed her posture enough to suck in her chest, trying to appear smaller and of less notice when compared to the imposing presence of her cousin. Thankfully, his gaze returned to her face after only a few seconds, before turning entirely to Corona once more and questioning, “And this is First Lieutenant Nova Shepard, correct?”

“That’s right. We’re both to be reassigned to the SSV  _ Tokyo _ ,” the older woman responded, her voice carrying just the slightest hint of irritation - perhaps in response to the man’s prying eyes earlier. Instinctively, Nova retreated a little further behind her, allowing her cousin to become a veritable wall hiding her away from the officer. 

“Captain Anderson should be-” the man began, but was soon cut off by the tell-tale rush of air as the door to the connecting bridge slid open and a tall man stepped out, his gaze immediately focusing in on Corona. 

He was the very picture of a soldier - large, bulky frame, with a broad chest and wide, squared shoulders, matching up with a stern expression made all the more intimidating by the weathered age lines and wrinkles painted across his face from many hard years in the service. His skin was dark brown, black hair cut close and high, with heavyset facial features indicating his predominantly African and Native American descent. And his eyes were sharp - they didn’t deviate in the slightest from his object of attention, instead staring down the young commander with a determined sort of gaze that could have made lessers cower under the intensity. But as he walked down the ramp and came to a stop just a few paces from the two women, Corona showed no reaction save for an oddly excited smile twisting at the corner of her mouth. 

Her arm lifted in a brisk salute, voice strong and authoritative as she greeted, “Captain Anderson. It’s an honor meeting you again, sir.” It was all Nova could do just to remember her own salute, even as David Anderson’s eyes remained fixed on her cousin. 

“Shepard,” he nodded, returning the salute before reaching a hand out to clasp hers. They gave each other a firm, strong shake before settling into an at-ease position. Picking up right where he left off, Anderson continued, “I’m pleased to see you ready and eager to settle in, soldier. The  _ Tokyo _ could use someone like you, so I’d like to extend a formal thanks for accepting the sudden reassignment with grace and eagerness. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you again, Commander - and I hope the  _ Tokyo _ will become as much a home to you as the  _ Hong Kong _ was, in time.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate the gesture, as well as the opportunity to serve as your executive officer,” Corona responded, giving a slight tilt of her head in deference. Seemingly satisfied, Anderson merely gave another nod before his steely gaze finally drifted over to Nova; she felt herself jump slightly, suddenly becoming altogether far too self conscious as the man captured her stare and held it with the same sort of intensity he had given to the commander. It felt as if he was looking into her very soul, weeding out every little secret and weakness to determine whether she was worthy of standing at Corona’s side - though in all honesty, she was sure that was simply a paranoid assumption borne from her own doubts, multiplied by the man’s hard gaze. 

Finally, he spoke to her - voice still ringing with a sense of authority and power, yet somehow sounding.. softer. “First Lieutenant Nova Shepard, I presume?”

“S-Sir, yes sir,” she responded, saluting him once again and taking the offered hand after he returned it with one of his own. His shake was just as intense as his stare, though he only gripped her hand in his for a moment before withdrawing.

“I reviewed your final scores from graduation. Sounds like you’ll be a damn fine soldier, lieutenant - and more importantly, a perfect addition to the  _ Tokyo _ . I’m glad the commander made the request to have you moved with her, because otherwise we’d all be missing out on a gifted biotic becoming part of the crew.”

“T-Thank you s-sir, I.. I’ll do my best to meet your e-expectations.” As she had that first time meeting Corona, Nova ardently wished her voice wouldn’t shake so much - but somehow it couldn’t be helped, while standing under the relentless scrutiny of such a decorated Alliance officer. His aura was very similar to Saren’s, in a way, the man giving off a powerful air of authority and experience, his figure cutting an intimidating place amid the others assembled at the airlock door; yet unlike Saren, Anderson’s presence only served to make her anxious, to feel as if her every move was being watched and judged with a keen eye borne from a lengthy and active military career. There was less edge to his features, of course - less of a cold facade meant to push others away, Anderson’s eyes appearing stern yet gentle, inviting to those who would wish to confide in him… but all the same, the man held himself with a poise and severity that would make anyone feel cowed by his presence. 

It certainly didn’t make Nova feel at ease, anyway. She hoped that with time, that initial first impression would change.

Giving another nod, as if her answer was satisfactory enough for him, Anderson’s gaze returned to the taller woman, freeing Nova from its hold; she felt herself visibly relax, the tension in her body seeping out after being held stiffly for what had felt like an eternity during that brief span of seconds he had directly spoken with her. In contrast, Corona’s posture changed little as their new captain fixed her with a hard stare once again - a practiced stance that was both formal and held her with dignity, giving the impression of a woman ready and willing to follow orders without compromising herself or appearing subservient. Once again, Nova couldn’t help being in awe of her cousin - wondering if she would ever be able to stand so tall, so proudly the way Corona did. 

“Come on then, commander - no need for us all to stand out here flapping jaws. Pierceson here will handle your bags,” Anderson briefly glanced to the officer who had, until now, been standing quietly in the back and keeping a respectful distance from them. At the man’s words, Pierceson gave a salute and moved closer, nodding once to Corona before grasping the handlebar of the medical gurney and turning it so he could drive it up the ramp and into the airlock. Anderson gave a short jerk of his head towards the sealed door, reaching over and palming the control panel to release the lock; a rush of air hit the four of them, briefly ruffling the women’s hair before dying down, leaving a gaping portal awaiting them. Allowing Pierceson to push the luggage-laden gurney through first, Anderson fell in step behind him - with Corona following after and Nova taking up the rear.

As they passed through the connecting bridge and crowded into the small airlock chamber, the bulkhead shut behind them almost soundlessly - and then the familiar, automated voice announced the decontamination process starting. Nova hardly even gave the event a second thought, having become far too used to it over the past year to the point it was just another hum in the background. Little more than a minute later, Pierceson was rolling the gurney across the threshold and disappearing down the corridor leading from the cockpit, with Anderson taking a slower pace. 

Turning back to them as they stepped into the ship proper, Anderson waved an arm outward as if showing it off. “Welcome aboard the SSV  _ Tokyo _ , ladies. Everyone’s excited to meet with you both, so if it’s not too much trouble, allow me to give you a brief tour. Pierceson will head down and meet us on the crew deck.” 

“Sir,” Corona nodded, giving a brief glance to Nova before her eyes focused entirely on their new captain and commanding officer. Anderson didn’t respond either by verbal or physical communication, instead promptly turning on his heel and setting a marching pace down the length of the corridor, waving over a few crewmembers idling around the navigational displays around the galaxy map. They had apparently been waiting for the indicator, immediately moving forward with salutes to Anderson - and soon turning them on Corona and Nova; a man and a woman - both of whom had the tell-tale glint of toughness in their eye that seemed present within any soldier having served in the Alliance for a few years. 

Corona and Nova both returned the salutes, which prompted Anderson to say, “Commander Shepard, Lieutenant Shepard, I’d like you to meet a couple of our longest-serving crew members - and also the two gruffs you’ll be dealing with often while here aboard the  _ Tokyo _ .” An uncharacteristic smile broke out on the captain’s face as he turned to the officers, taking Nova by surprise for a moment as the picture of that stern, intimidating soldier fell away to present a regular man - aged by time and battle, of course, but a normal, everyday man all the same. Somehow, that made her feel a bit more at ease.

“Come now, Anderson, you make it sound as if we’ll be looming over their shoulders, barking orders and insulting their competency at all hours of the day,” the woman quipped, her voice bearing a distinct accent commonly associated to a dominant area of Britain, back on Earth. In the brief moments her attention was focused on Captain Anderson, Nova looked her over; she was an older woman, though bore few lines or wrinkles on her handsome face and instead simply sported a primly-cut bob of grey hair. Her eyes were a darker green than Nova’s own - unusual in recent years, but not entirely unheard of, though they held a lighter color around the outer iris. She carried herself with a dignity and forbearance reminiscent of a noble from the olden days of Earth’s history, her arms crossed in front of her chest and hip slightly cocked in a subtle display of attitude. 

She was really quite the beauty, even in her age. 

Anderson chuckled, his business-like facade further chipping away as he gave an exaggerated motion towards the woman, returning his gaze briefly to meet Corona’s as he said, “This is our resident doctor and upcoming comedian, Major Karin Chakwas. She’ll be here to patch up any injuries - big or small - as well as be on hand for any other medical matters. Just watch out for her tranquilizers.. she’ll threaten you with them if you try to hobble out of the medbay before you’re healed to her satisfaction.”

Chakwas merely rolled her eyes, giving an overdramatized huff in respond, before extending her hand outward towards Corona - who took it with a smile and gave her a firm shake - then to Nova, smiling at them both with a motherly sort of kindness. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Commander Shepard - I’ve heard nothing but praise for you from everyone, including the captain. It will be an honor to serve alongside you here aboard our old girl. And you, young miss Lieutenant Shepard - should you ever require anything, please do not hesitate to stop by the medbay.”

“Thank you, Doctor Chakwas - will do,” Corona responded. 

“T-Thank you, ma’am,” Nova said afterwards, feeling herself flushing slightly in embarrassment. Chakwas merely gave a nod, her eyes gentle and non judgemental as she deferred to Anderson, awaiting further introductions in silence. 

The captain then turned to the man, who - like himself - had close-cropped hair in accordance with Alliance regulations. His skin was much lighter than Anderson’s, and eyes a dark grey, looking almost black in the dim lighting of the ship’s CIC. Unlike Chakwas, he carried himself in a fairly neutral manner, appearing no more and no less than he was, making his presence known but not imposing it upon others whether through body language or sheer force of will such as Anderson did. Motioning to him, the captain said, “And this is our chief engineer, Lieutenant Greg Adams. He primarily works down near the drive core, though you’ll see him all over the ship from day to day - he’s quite the busy man.”

“That I am, sir,” Adams said, though he gave a small smile as if sharing a joke with the man. “But I always have time to spare to chat - or to come meet the newest crew members.” At that, he turned to the two women and extended his hand to each of them in turn, giving a nod after shaking and resting himself in an at-ease position. 

“If either of you have any interest in ships, or just general questions about what a button does or where a ventilation shaft leads, feel free to seek out Adams. He’ll talk your damn ear off once you get him started.”

“Can you blame me, captain?” Adams asked, the smile growing larger even as he focused back on Corona and Nova. “I’ve served on every class of Alliance starship, from tiny frigates all the way to some of our biggest dreadnaughts. You name a ship, I’ve probably gotten my fingers all over the engineering deck of it at some point or another. Found myself stopping here on the  _ Tokyo _ for a while, though. She’s a damn good ship, and the crew ain’t half bad either, I suppose.” 

Anderson chuckled at that, and Nova could even see the doctor grinning as well.   
  
“At any rate, I’ll let the two of you get back to work. Commander, Lieutenant - if you’ll follow me, we’ll head on down to the crew deck and show each of you where you’ll be staying from today forward.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so late being posted and it's honestly been done for a while, but life's been blah and I also got so distracted with Overwatch. But! Here it is, finally. Hoping updates will be slightly more frequent than three weeks of radio silence lol >.>;;


	12. Retirement

Saren’s fingers drummed impatiently along the table.

He called up his omnitool again, checking for what felt like the thousandth time to see if Nova had left a new update on her relocating - even if he knew there was nothing awaiting him. But the nervous energy wouldn’t let him sit still or even distract his mind with other tasks, anger and paranoid worry twisting together in a violent dance as he wondered after his mate. He thought of eating, but the anxiety seemed to eat away at every part of him, and Saren was all too sure he’d scarce be able to keep food down at this time - not until he knew she was safe, until he heard every detail of her move to the new ship and meeting with that damnable Anderson. Even ration bars wouldn’t settle, at this point.

Nihlus was always an option for distraction, of course. The two of them had set off from the colony world a day ago, now drifting through hyperspace en route to the Serpent Nebula and a welcome respite from the investigation’s sordid events. Nihlus’ ship was ahead of his own by a few light years, though Saren cared little for the fact - it wasn’t a race, after all, and in complete honesty he felt almost restless with the looming return to the Citadel. At least within the confines of his ship, he only had to deal with the aching in his chest… thoughts of walking back into that lonely, desolate apartment and seeing every cold echo of Nova’s presence amid the empty air did little to settle his nerves. Sitting and awaiting a message from her only seemed to exacerbate the issue, and so his gaze idly lingered on the display of his former protegé’s ID sitting unobtrusively in his contact list.

Nihlus had scarce left him alone about the woman after their talk in the cargo hold, constantly having asked at all hours of that day if she was doing alright, what they’d talked about; questions amid questions always punctuated by teases and prods against his temper. It was a wonder he’d been able to take the time to speak to his mate in private, let alone be able to watch her pleasure herself in time to his own masturbation - a poor replacement for the passion they couldn’t share with each other, given the distance between them and all the obstacles standing in the way of them returning to one another. Yet his protegé had been diligent with his work, dutifully filing a report and editing it twice over before sending it off to the Council, then awaiting a response that came soon after. The series of events had lasted longer than that of Saren’s call with his woman, allowing the two of them ample time to enjoy one another as fully as they could while limited to vidcall - and provide a few minutes more enough for Saren to clean up the mess left behind by his ministrations, straighten himself out, and resume a state of quiet evaluation as he returned to Nihlus to follow up on his report. As was to be expected by then, the younger turian had immediately caught on to the scent of a recent release and not let Saren live it down, though thankfully avoided questions of how Nova “performed”... perhaps knowing they would incite Saren to a rage.

They would have, on that note. Despite slowly allowing himself to speak more of his mate to the fellow Spectre, Saren wasn’t keen on giving anyone an idea of how she was in bed. _Especially_ not Nihlus.

Eventually, the haggard old turian pushed himself away from the table, crossing the length of the deck to the stairwell and taking them two at a time as he made his way up to the cockpit. Slipping into the pilot’s seat, he fiddled with the controls for a moment and adjusted the set course, before finally disabling the ship’s self-generating mass effect field. With the element-zero drive core offline, the ship soon dropped out of FTL travel, red-hued light shifting to a blue outside the viewport for a moment before finally clearing, dissolving into the familiar black abyss of normal space.

Saren once more adjusted course, confirming the autopilot was still cruising along towards the mass relay becoming just barely visible outside the thin strip of reinforced glass that made up the front windows. Satisfied, he leaned back in the chair and called up his omnitool once more - irrationally checking for correspondence from Nova before giving a destitute sigh and navigating to Nihlus’ ID. He was relatively sure the younger Spectre had dropped out of FTL along with him, though if Nihlus’ ship was anywhere close by, it was too far out for either the viewports or his radar.

After only a few seconds of crackling static, Nihlus’ familiar white colony markings erupted from the darkness of his screen, eyes glinting amid the orange glow of the man’s own omnitool. He gave the older Spectre a questioning tilt of his head, to which Saren merely flicked his mandibles in response.

“Something on your mind, Saren?” his friend asked, subvocals seemingly not knowing what to convey - humming with a confused mixture of amusement and worry. His brow plates lowered slightly, as Saren gave a tired shrug, but a smile pulled at the younger turian’s mandibles and he tried to joke, “Well, _besides_ your girlfriend, I mean.”

Saren gave a small growl, a subtle warning that he wasn’t exactly in a joking mood when it came to her. To his credit, Nihlus’ subvocals switched gears and began displaying apologetic thrumming, though Saren paid it little mind. Instead, he finally replied, “Just restless.” Glancing away from the curious, prying look in his protegé’s eyes, he stared out towards the distant blue glow of the mass relay - appearing as no more than another star blinking in the great black expanse. When Nihlus didn’t reply, seemingly awaiting something further from him, Saren gave a sigh and continued, “Thinking too much. Distract me.”

“So I’m to be your entertainment for our flight back, then,” Nihlus said with an exaggerated tone. His subvocals, however, sang with concern - a stark contrast to the carefree aura he was attempting to display. With an overdramatized sigh, he asked, “Really, Saren… are you sure you want me to start pulling out all the old party tricks? Like my off-key rendition of the turian march?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Nihlus’ smile lessened slightly. For a moment, silence fell between them - pregnant and maddeningly infuriating to Saren, who normally would have been grateful for a lapse in conversation with his much more animated, talkative partner. But now, it felt as loud as if someone was screaming directly into his ear, grating on his nerves and heightening the anxious state he was in until he almost roared at Nihlus for it all; Saren wanted to turn the screaming against his friend, to punish the man for his sudden quiet state and force Nihlus to be as annoyingly boisterous as he always was. That was the exact reason he had thought to drag Nihlus into a vidcall, knowing full well it would delay their return to the Citadel by a few hours. Yet only _now_ did his former protegé decide to keep his mouth shut.

“Seriously… what’s eating at you, Saren?” he finally asked, the gentle flanging of his voice breaking through the unbearable silence and wrapping around the old Spectre like a blanket against the cold. Saren couldn’t help the sigh of relief following upon a pleasant intake of breath, even as the question sent his thoughts into further disarray. Giving a shake of his head, Saren leaned further back into his seat and ran a hand along his fringe, looking away once more. How was he to even begin? Trying to make any sense of the maddening thoughts and worries overtaking every conscious part of his mind seemed nearly impossible, and then trying to _explain_ it all to Nihlus came with its own fair share of problems - namely that of easily spewing forth a barrage of information that was altogether too personal, too vulnerable for him to feel comfortable telling to anyone… save for one woman.

Nova could somehow coax out every dark secret, every sordid little detail and echo of his past, with hardly any effort made through word or action. Nihlus, however, definitely did not have the same pull.

Shaking his head once more, Saren at least made an attempt to. “I can’t do this anymore, Nihlus,” he said, voice barely more than a whisper. Before the younger turian could even ask _what_ he couldn’t do, he went on to say, “I can’t stand this distance, this separation from her. Every day, I feel… I feel more and more as if I’m slipping into madness. I feel stressed, anxious… that ‘heartache’ you mentioned, it presses down so heavily I sometimes worry my chest will cave inward upon itself from the weight. The more days pass where she… where she’s still not here at my side, they just..”

His words died off, mandibles pressing close against his jaw.

Nihlus responded after only a moment’s pause, his voice careful and slow in an effort to show comfort and camaraderie. “Can she not schedule a trip out to the Citadel?”

“No, her… _studies_ -” Saren had to resist the urge to cringe as he spoke the word, the lie still sounding just as pathetic and flaky as it had the first time he had ever spoken to Nihlus about his woman. “Her studies.. prevent her from going off-world very often… Possibly once or twice a year, at most.”

“Ah,” Nihlus said, the word sounding very unconvinced and more than a little suspicious - but that had always been the case. Saren knew Nihlus was an intelligent man, hard to fool and rarely ever able to be lied to in any successful fashion, especially not when he was close to someone.. but for whatever reason, he had chosen to go along with the false story Saren spun for him of Nova’s occupation, prying no further into it beyond what little bits and pieces the older turian mentioned for the sake of explanation. Settling into his own chair, Nihlus’ mandibles flicked twice in rapid succession before he asked, “So what are you going to do? You made a selfless decision in regards to letting her finish her… ah.. _studies_ before trying to convince her to stay at the Citadel, as I recall…”

“... One I now regret. I was..” Saren paused, gaze once more wandering to the glow of the mass relay before returning to Nihlus, his expression almost guilty - he _felt_ guilty, thinking of how he had let Nova go in an effort to allow her some choice in the matter, time to think on her career in the Alliance as well as their relationship, to come to her own decision on what she wanted to do with her life.. and now wanting to take it all back, to take that autonomy away from her simply because he selfishly couldn’t deal with their separation any longer. “I didn’t want her to resent me, in the future… for having forced her to a decision so early into our relationship.”

“Which I’m sure she will appreciate in time, if she doesn’t already. What you did was… oddly kind, Saren. Putting someone else’s needs before your own, it’s… not something most people expect from you. When you told me, I was honestly very surprised, but at the same time it made me proud to call you a friend.” Saren watched as his friend gave a sheepish smile, mandibles thrumming in amusement. Seeing the older turian was going to remain silent, Nihlus continued, “You easily could have influenced her to give up on whatever it is occupying her time, to stay behind at the Citadel and live there with you, wait for you while you’re out for weeks or months at a time on assignments… from all you’ve told me of her, she seems to be very amicable to your desires, Saren. To the point of being easily manipulated, should you choose to do that to her.. yet you were selfless, you put her needs first and her happiness before your own. But… now you want to take that back?”

“Pathetic, I know,” Saren responded, giving a tired shrug of his shoulders and breaking his gaze away from Nihlus’ once more. He sighed, closing his eyes and massaging at his temples as he tried to push aside the overwhelming sense of self-loathing and irritation, instead focus on making sense of all the feelings warring within his mind. “But… she’s also said this separation is… is hard on her. Neither of us can deal with this, Nihlus - we both ache for one another, we both want to.. spirits, what else can I be expected to do? Sit idly by while she remains trapped by indecision and the machinations of her mi-... her _studies_?”

“So what’s your plan then, Saren? Kidnap her from Earth, or whatever colony she inhabits? And even if you do, what then? You’re a Spectre, Saren… even if the two of you would have some time to finally be with each other again, you’ll still have long spans of time where you won’t be able to see her, where she’ll be forced to live alone in an apartment too big for one person, waiting on you to return… having to live with the anxiety of whether you will at all. What then? Do you plan to pack her up in your ship and carry her around on assignments like some sort of luck charm?”

The slow-building ferocity in his friend’s voice surprised the old turian, and he couldn’t help glancing back at the man’s familiar red-toned hide, expression bordering between annoyance and remorse. They were all good questions, ones he had been thinking on as well yet unable to answer… but seeing the hard look in his former protegé’s eye, Saren realized that he’d accomplish nothing by avoiding them.

“I don’t know, Nihlus. I don’t know how I will get her off-world, how I will convince her to… to drop everything and come with me. No, it’s… more like I know exactly how I could, but I.. fear her resentment for it.” Mandibles clicking against his jaw and subvocals humming with anxiety, Saren ran a hand over his face again, leaning heavily against the arm of the pilot seat as he stared out into the dark sea beyond the viewports. Nova, in all her innocent naiveté, would too easily agree to accompany him back to his apartment in the Citadel, were he to show up out of the blue and attempt to whisk her away.. but the same fear from before tempered his desire to do exactly that. He couldn’t bear the thought of her feelings lessening in the future, her affection to turn into bitterness as she thought more and more over what she could have accomplished had she not thrown away her life for him.

“And even if you can accomplish that without making her hate you later, how do you intend to deal with the unavoidable times where you’ll be on assignment for weeks?”

“... Perhaps it’s time I retire,” he responded, voice lowering to hardly a whisper - as if the very thought of such a thing being spoken was blasphemy. Indeed, Nihlus’ eyes went wide and mandibles flared out in surprise, making Saren all the more anxious for having said anything.

“... You can’t be serious, Saren. You? _Retire_ ?” his friend said in disbelief, still with the openly flabbergasted expression. A moment later, however, it fell away to be replaced with a strange, searching look in his eye; Saren almost shied away from it, feeling oddly exposed - something uncomfortably unfamiliar to him in the first place, and especially unbearable when in the presence of anyone but Nova. Another pause, another seemingly eternal few seconds of silence, and Nihlus spoke again, asking, “...You really are serious about this. You’re really serious about _her_.”

“I am.”

For a moment, Nihlus made no move, no sound - merely giving Saren another hard stare, his expression entirely neutral despite the rapid flicking of his mandibles. Then the younger turian sat back in his chair, running a hand across the length of his face in a similar motion to Saren’s own - a laugh bubbling from his throat as he did so. It was shaky, sounding more like a gasp than a chuckle, yet it pierced the silence between them for but a few moments before finally dying off, to be replaced by a deep rumble. Then that, too, fell silent.

Saren met his friend’s gaze after that - strong, determined.. so unlike how he felt right now. But he refused to back down from the questioning glint in the young Spectre’s eye.

“I’m sorry, Saren… this is just a lot to take in, all of a sudden. You’re… you’re really sure of this? Could you really give up this life you’ve lived for over twenty years, just like that?”

“According to Sparatus, I may be getting too old to work as a Spectre anyway.” Saren gave a shrug, subvocals thrumming with irritation at the memory of his meeting with the councilor. When Nihlus gave a harsh bark of a laugh, disbelief lacing through the tone, he continued, “Retirement may not be so bad… especially if I wish to give her the sort of life she deserves.”

“... I still can’t believe what I’m hearing right now, honestly. Then again, sometimes it’s hard to wrap my head around the fact you have a girlfriend - a _human_ girlfriend.”

Again, Saren only responded with a shrug. Nihlus stared at him a moment longer, before echoing the motion.

“It isn’t as if you have to rush into a decision, at least… and you shouldn’t, Saren. This is something you both need to talk out with one another - you’ll both be affected, after all… just.. make sure it’s a decision you won’t regret later on, just as it won’t be for her.”

“I know, Nihlus… I.. I’ll plan to speak to her about everything the next time we can sync up for a vidcall.”

“Saren?” Nihlus asked suddenly, and the older Spectre arched a brow in response, nodding his chin forward to prompt his friend to speak. The man’s subvocals hummed with indecision for a moment, mandibles flicking against his jaw before finally settling and clinging tightly to the sides of his mouth. “Do you plan to marry her, then? I admit, it’s hard to imagine you as a family man..”

“.... I don’t know yet.”

“Fair enough, I suppose. Well..” With that, Nihlus sat forward, leaning against the navigation panel in front of him and pulling his omnitool away, rolling his neck from side to side and finally standing up with a small groan. After another stretch, his eyes wandered back to Saren’s own as he finished with, “Whatever you decide, I’ll be here to support you if needed. Or, alternatively, kick your ass when you’re being a hard headed fool.”  
  
That got Saren laughing. Letting the sound run its course and purge from his body, he simply replied, “I’ll make a note of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It... has been a lot longer than I meant it to be before a new update. I've been actually writing 2-3 chapters ahead for the past couple of months, but that also means I sometimes forget to post sections already finished, especially if I get stuck on a current portion the way I have now... so. Oops :'D
> 
> This is why I don't stick to a strict update schedule, though. Life happens a lot, and I've also been quite busy this past month with some things, spending more time hanging out with friends and attempting to give myself a little more breathing room when it comes to writing than I have been. Not to say I've stopped! I just realized I was starting to overwork myself to the point of stress, so been trying to work a tad bit slower for my own mental health. 
> 
> Anyway, this was a long A/N, so I hope everyone simply enjoyed the chapter! It was a little shorter, but hopefully it was worth the way-too-long wait ;v; I'm so sorry again for my lack of updates!


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